The Rocking Chair

The colours are fading, turning white my mother’s hair
Seems it won’t be long before I find myself, next in the rocking chair
By the window, looking out at grey skies
Trying to craft memorials, out of memories.

Days pass on by, thrusting the wind, and all the sawdust
Into my eyes, as if to prove to me once again, time’s lust
Time’s lust for wretched despair
Eating away at the wood in my chair.

Break even, break uneven, nothing breaks my fall
Every single one of us has to take that call
Our lives keep moving on, the wheels are always in motion
Nothing lasts forever- but death, and erosion

Soon you’ll see yourself too, leaning back in the rocking chair
Telling wise tales to your next of kin, with quite the artistic flair
Better make it worth it, because a waste of time life was
When death approaches, eminent it’ll be- the beauty and the loss.


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