An Old Empty Bench

I can see it in my mind…
Just an old empty bench.
The paint had faded
From years in the sun.

Where people had been sitting
The paint had worn off.
People had been sliding over to make room.
Use does that over time.

I wonder how many conversations has it heard?
How many souls have enjoyed its comfort?
How many homeless people have used it as their bed?

What has it seen? What has it felt?
Has it brought comfort? Joy? Rest?
How many photographs has it been in?
How many children have climbed on it?

Perhaps it was a bus stop bench that Forrest Gump once sat on.
Or maybe a bench in the town park.
It could have been a bench overlooking the waves on the ocean.
Possibly a bench in a flower garden.

Whatever it was, it’s empty now, yearning for human contact.
Wanting to be useful, wanting to be shared.

But for now, it’s alone.
Just an old empty bench.

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