Nearly Full

They're asking me if something's wrong.
There is, but it must go unsaid. "How
Could there be,?" I smile and say.
"My friends are here. The weather's fine,
The food and conversation good. I have
To say my life is full," and so it is,
Except for this one chair, which isn't
Occupied. It was until this morning.
That's what's wrong.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 17 times
Written on 2012-03-14 at 11:24

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