The places it's been
The food and hearts it's held
when gathered around it
If only wood could talk
What would the wood say in your home?
Another time of feasting and strife?
Laden with delicacies galore?
Another day covered with books and
papers put off till a rainy day?
An emptiness, a longing for many to gather
round to share the joys and sorrows they have?
Day after day is it merely a piece of furniture,
collecting dust? What would the wood say
if wood could talk today?