The Table

I was brought
Into a family
No more
No less
They loved me
Like a varnish
All shiny
And clean
But over time it wore
Away
 .
I became a table
Which they would only use
If they needed something
Coming back and forth
Plopping their tired wares down
For me to tinker with
And replace
 .
For years this would go on
I would remind them
I need love
Then
The clear
Slippery varnish
Would be applied
They would love me
For a time
 .
For a time
Was not enough
Being used
Wears a person down
And I
Was at my limit
A glassless surface
Gazing at
Wishing on a star
For another life
.
Laying the papers
On the table
For a divorce
Signing them
As the wood
Of the table
Becomes a boxcar
Speeding away
From
Here

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s