A chair for comfort is the past
be careful of its charm.
At first its kiss gives sweetness
as it holds you in its welcome arms.
The dreamer sleeps long in its bed,
holding back the dawn.
Trading all tomorrows
so that nighttime can drag on.
Here the air is stale
and you cannot bring a friend.
An old song dims reality,
then asks you to come in.
Shadows are its tenants,
with faces we recall.
A shell of memories come to life
from pictures on the wall.
Desperate is loneliness,
its reach goes deep within.
Once rising from its chair,
we can clearly see its sin.
Bill Cantrell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/living-in-the-past-10/
