The creaky old rocking chair in the middle of the woods.
In the middle of the woods, where shadows play, stands a creaky old rocking chair, forgotten and gray. It's once polished wood is now weathered and worn. Just a relief of memories, tattered and torn. Each creak and groan, a whisper from the past, of days gone by once at last. The chair sits alone in the silence; it weeps. The wind whisperer is through the trees, a mournful tune. As the chair rocks back and forth under the light of the moon. The memories still in the air are heavy and thick. Of all the laughter and tears, there are moments that stick. The headache and longing, the pain and despair, all captured in the creaks of this lonely old chair. So if you ever wander into the woods so deep and find this old creaky chair where secrets keep, sit for a while, and then listen to its tail, and know that even in darkness, light prevails.
About this poem
This poem is from my crazy mind.
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Written on October 15, 2024
Submitted by alanswansea18 on October 15, 2024
Modified by alanswansea18 on October 17, 2024
- 48 sec read
- 372 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | A |
---|---|
Characters | 847 |
Words | 159 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 1 |
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"The creaky old rocking chair in the middle of the woods." Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/201252/the-creaky-old-rocking-chair-in-the-middle-of-the-woods.>.
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