CHAIR

It’s not just money – a pile we could use

 Your ability to disguise yourself like everyone else, you lose

To hide among the folks with nothing in their head

Standing, kicking tires, repeating something someone else said

Young minds see so clearly yet they judge so harshly

All they have seen are objects of pity

No matter if he’s clever generous or witty

Billy had a chair – he’s dying soon

Maria had a chair- She died on a Friday at noon

Pity the people you see in the chair

The message implied is incredibly clear

He is kind and consistent, he is a crippled loser

It’s annoying to wait on a disabled Hoosier

It embarrasses us, because people are looking

We don’t want them to think that he is our dad

Does he feel like the rest of us, does he ever get mad

Mom can’t you find someone better somewhere

Even your friends say

You’ve got your hands full there

Missionary is out of the question

Maybe someone with a grown up profession

Lips don’t line up right for a kiss

Why can’t you just that,

Why don’t you just this?

Act as if you don’t notice, does he even care

How can he smile, always stuck in that chair

Where is his shame, what’s he doing out there

Rolling and laughing with all that long hair