The Empty Chair

November 2, 2007
By Jillian Mismas, HIGHLAND HTS, OH

The empty chair
The rain will pour,
Their feet will become sore,
Lightning will be seen in the corner of their eye,
Thunder will sound as our hearts heave a great sigh.

The fearful will hide and scurry,
As the brave will take on the worry.
Clothes will be dripping with our tears,
As the brave take on their fears.

As you look across the table you see the empty chair,
Remembering the soft skin, tall figure, and beautiful silky hair.
Their laugh sounds in your ears as the tears build,
You think of how they may be the one who could get killed.

One rest on the bed though it was meant for two,
A dark shadow washes that spot as you dream of him and you.
Why must they be brave,
Why must it be them who can save!

Questions will buzz and burn,
And they will say this it was their turn!
In a way it is true,
Next turn it will be me and you.

Christmas is a time of laughs and joys,
When children start to play with their new toys.
You look across the table and see the empty chair,
Remembering the soft skin, tall figure, and the beautiful silky hair.

The evening comes and you have presents to give,
But an unexpected knock on the door proves that he no longer will live.
A soldier in red white and blue stands by the door,
You start to cry and fall in puddles on the floor.

You stand and whip the tears,
Now it is time for you to face your fears.
You turn the door handle,
The sudden rush of wind burned the one candle.

The soldier faces you as more tears fall,
The man had soft skin, no hair, and rather tall.
He rapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, "I love you."
You don't brush the snow off of your hair as you look in his eyes, "I love you too."

You look across the table and you don't see any empty chair,
But you do see a soldier with soft skin and no longer silky hair.

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