Chairs

How chairs are made,
Whoever makes it never sits.

I don’t know
Why are empty chairs exposed?

Sometimes we used to sit there,
By chatting with friends,
Some girls played
wandering around,
Memories were waking up ever,
Many dreams bloomed,
Now people don’t go there,
They are angry with their own eyes,
at home
The sofa is planted.

Empty chairs are now missing
Waiting, in the sabre.

Chairs are never anybody’s,
Time plays out.

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