Lost in Time Lost in Space and Meaning by Nikki LeDree
The Thoughtful Contemplative
I am life and I am myself.
Part of a weakness.
Some days I believe myself.
Which day,
Which person,
What I think depends on you.
Which labels others experience.
I am simply personification.
I am the thoughtful contemplative.
Ask me the answer,
I think I am capable.
The Chair in the Corner
How long had it been? Two days? Three? Buried under cloth. Under sweaty clothes and discarded coats. At least its legs were free. It could stretch them out if it wanted to. It could feel the carpet under its feet. This was all it needed wasn’t it? Freedom and a purpose for being. It couldn’t recall a time when someone sat on it and enjoyed it for what it was. There it sat, alone in the corner gazing out at the other more privileged chairs. Hour’s people would spend sitting on them. The chairs that were so lovingly placed under the table. Never would they be subject to the same treatment as the chair in the corner.
The chair’s bitterness grew, as did its isolation.
