Floating legs,high n heavy spine,
A wide reclining lap,
Made of teak wood,
Is that old creaking chair.
He oblivious to all of this,
Talk and sleep with him,
In the affectionate and caring lap
Only known to him.
He wakes up with its creaking alarm
Gulps a first water,eats a last bread,
Even takes a noon retiring lap,
In its company.
That creaking chair is his only friend,
But look at the agony of this lonely world,
Even that is not his own,
For he is not the master but a lowly one.
P.S: Dedicated to all the under age helpers, servants, who even if work in big palaces only get a chair to sit, sleep and live.
