Blending in with the town,
A studio caught my eye.
All kinds of art inside,
Different colors, like brown.
A corner with no sound,
A painting I spy.
Dark colors that fly,
A chair fills the empty.
The chair has been alone for so long,
It blends in with the darkness.
Isolation, solitude, loneliness.
How long has it been alone?
No one had a use for the chair,
It was by itself for so long.
It wouldn’t make a difference if it wasn’t there.
If it was going to be always alone,
Why does it continue to exist?