WOODEN STOOL
Sitting on a wooden stool
breathing smoke-filled air
the man he is
will never be
the man he was before
He laughs out loud
and knows the crowd
they smile and carry on
but they'll pull their knives
and let them fly
as soon as he has gone
Blades kill the door
and stab the floor
a painting falls
of a crow
but those who throw
you know don't know
the man who walked through that door
He hears his peers
and fears their jeers
so walks and walks some more
to turn around would bring him down
what would he do that for
How is he to know this
a gut feeling is never wrong
this game they think they're playing
he's known it all along
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© Doghaus
13 December 2017
I own all rights to the text and image in this post.
Honestly,
Doghaus