Sleep. I will never feel sleep again.
My kin and I, we had a good run
And now we’re forlorn, left to face the cold
Alone at the side of the road.
The wardrobe, the bedside table and bed.
Once part of a set, in the bedroom where I belonged,
Sat proudly in the centre of the room.
Adorned by pillows and throws,
A quilt and a blanket to make you feel at home,
Adored by others, a soft comfort throne.
But now I’m left alone,
Naked at the side of the road.
A bedside table – the pinnacle of what I once was.
Now, I’m lucky if my 80s wooden finish
Makes it into a hallway somewhere.
I’m old. My purpose served.
Now left to the dogs with no love left spared.
Clothes. I will never know them again.
My insides left bare against the pavement
For all the world to see.
Waterlogged and weather beaten
the wind tears my handles off,
Casting my faux gold trimmings and brass handles into the street.
No, we had a good home.
But now, on the side of Woodlands Road,
We’re left to be taken away,
And broken down, and shredded,
To be reused and born again anew.