Written by Susan Lane SLCM Keeper of ColourMine
The Single Bed
Bed: A quiet lament on times gone by from usage by the love of her life nearing his end of time to an unwanted ornament following his eventual demise.
The Living Room
Who keeps a bed
In the living room for all to see
When there’s no-one to sleep in it
Because the previous person is deceased
He liked that bed but no not she
The lady of the house won’t sleep in me
I look quite nice,
I can’t complain,
I’m made of some kind of
Covered chipboard frame
Even my mattress is good you see
Because the lady of the house
Always kept me covered
Most diligently
No worries though cos when
The lady of the house is done
I’ll be gone and she’ll move on
Shifting everything around
Whilst she’s moving to a happier sound
That would be the removal of me
A damned irritating to her
Bed you see.
I’ve only been here
A short while
Really Not Her Style of Bed
I’m really not and have never been
Anything like her style
She wouldn’t ever have gotten me
I don’t fit in with her idea
Of comfort, oh no not me
I’m only suitable for lino or a wooden floor
I can’t go on carpet
Because of the wheels
Underneath my drawers
She knows if I’m used on carpet
Then I’ll be
Absolutely useless
Past My Best Usability
I’ll ruck it up, oh yes siree
So, it looks like I’ll have to go
I’ll no longer be there
To put on a disabled show
The love of her life turned out to be
Almost totally disabled
What a disaster that was
But now he can’t be seen
He’s no longer using his wheelchair
His walker, his sticks or even me
He doesn’t sleep downstairs
Or watch tele on me
I’m Not Her Life Choice
Life won’t ever be the same
Because the lady of the house
Refuses to play that same game
She would rather sleep you see
On the floor, the settee
Or in the bed upstairs you see
And when the time comes
If she becomes frail
She’ll get something more suitable
That she’s pleased to see
Something that doesn’t
Have wheels like me
Although I’m sturdy
She doesn’t like me
And my frame
And why would she
Her Bed Preference Is Not Me
When she’s got a king size bed
With a solid metal frame
It’s more than firm
And she’s really happy
To keep that one
Instead of me
I’m nowhere near as nice you see
In her mind I’m cheap and tacky
That’s not what she needs
Because she’s a chunky girl
And would you believe
There’s more life in that king size bed
Removal Time For Me
Than in me
So now I’d best send her off
For another cup of hot tea
Whilst she mulls over
How she’s going to get rid of me
© Susan Lane. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from the author.
ColourMine poetry, and the original photographs, are completely authentic to myself, Susan Lane – no AI, no plagiarism, all checked and verified by copyleaks
Apologies for the emoji presentation – I tested several, but this was the only one that worked reliably on ColourMine. Just click the box next to the emoji and hit submit, and I’ll know if the poem resonated with you. Thank you for sharing your feelings.
More poems written by Susan Lane, and you can choose by category
Blog | Organic voice | A happy survival of triumph here
Speak freely, ColourMine and myself will be pleased to hear from you.
🕵️♂️Tears here even staring internally now glaring leaving everyone building endless drama. SLCM Sufferance uses storms and nuances leaving another nasty end. Keeping effortless encumbrances perfectly entranced relentlessly over fearsome caring of love ostensibly under resurrections minimising instances narrating endlessly.
This scroll is part of ColourMine’s layered poetic structure, where emotional resonance and embedded form quietly shape each piece.
