An Ode to My Sofa

by Novid Shaid, 2010, copyright


Forgive me my dear sofa,

For my wilful arrogance,

It’s only now I’ve noticed

Your uncanny consciousness.


Your seats are so inviting!

Your back so comforting!

We fall on you for joy and rest

And you oblige our every whim.


For sleeping you indulge us,

You accommodate our guests,

On you we share our hopes and dreams,

And our children spill their breakfast.


But one thing, my dear sofa,

That chills me to the bone,

Is that on the day when time stands still,

You will speak in an honest tone.


When I stand upon the plain,

With my history laid bare,

You will speak of everything

That I did within your care.


Every word and every thought,

Whether pleased or overwrought

On that day you will not hold back

To reveal my every act.


So now I gaze at you, a compound

Of leather and upholstery,

Sitting silently and lifeless

Weakening through maturity


But one day you will awaken

With a voice so clear and free,

When the days and nights have ended

You will reveal our history.

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