The Rocking Chair

• Rebecca Francis, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2017

There once was a rocking chair sturdy and strong,
but a wood chopper then came thinking he was doing no wrong.

The axe came down, piercing the wooden limbs,
but no one dared scream 'bloody murder' towards that thing.

For that rocking chair is not alive,
and one by one each piece joined it's kin.

But what we do not see,
is at one point that rocking chair was alive.
For even little seeds can grow into something made to strive.