My Glorious Chair

My chair is an old century wooden masterpiece. This chair is carved with intricate designs such as a crowned top, sleek narrow indents and curved arms. Sadly, dents cover the piece. It has been through family illnesses, social and family drama, and depressing days. This chair has nearly been everywhere except where it wants to be, sitting in Buckingham Palace. This chair wants to be set on European soil. The sun would be shining, the birds would be singing only if this one chair could go where it needs to go. Sat upon this chair, is a big red cushion, just like the ones you see in movies. And the cushion itself is stuffed with memories. Childhood, family gatherings, concerts, and the bonds of best friends being made – and later torn apart. This chair has helped in the production of plays; sometimes itself being on stage and not something the actors can sit on between scenes. It is laminated with lyrics that soared through the air and landed upon its wood. I struggle to keep this chair balanced. Sometimes I lose control of it and I don’t know how to handle its weight. As much as I want to give up and put down my chair, I know that I have to still carry it. Giving up would be the easy way out and the easy way out is for quitters, and I sir, am not a quitter.