the silent sitter

The silent sitter

 

I sit with many faces; give advice the best I can,

Go to many places, I walk, I crawled, I ran,

Always I have been there, to lend a helping hand,

Honest, true and fair, tried to make things grand,

 

I’ve sat and had a chat, with him, or her or those,

My opinion, on this or that, with anyone I chose,

But when the talking is over, an empty chair I see,

I am everyone’s four leafed clover, but no one sits with me,

 

In all the high’s and low’s, no one dares to ask,

I’m quiet no one, knows, if I’m bothered by some task,

When the talk is done, they have left me in my chair,

They leave together as one, sat alone just seems unfair,

 

My door is always open, my kettle always boiled,

A missed chance, unspoken, alone my day is spoiled,

Friends I have aplenty, lives busy, they are glad,

Paupers and some gentry, can’t tell if, I’m happy or sad,

 

I listen to the woes; I help out if I can,

To great highs and lows, forward thinking plans,

But when the day has ended, my worries are my own,

This empty chair upended, I worry on my own,

 

With the listener, who will sit; lend him their wise old ear,

Make it their remit, use caution without fear,

Be honest in their chat; tell no one what was said,

No chair for all of that, thoughts swirling round my head,

 

I sit with many faces, others’ lives I see,

Through them visit many places, but no one sits, with me,

An open door, a kettle boiled, no invitation needed,

A lifelong trait myself I spoiled, forever I’ll go unheeded