This little wooden chair
Has the scratches of my childhood
I once was too small to fit
But now it's to small for me
If my chair could speak
It would share what it's seen
My tears of sorrow and joy
My screams of frustration and excitement
My little wooden chair was crafted
Crafted by the man who betrayed me before any other
My little wooden chair is a now fragile
With a slight blow of my breath it might fall
And when my little wooden chair breaks
I will too
