Frail with age
Yet Hardy.
Its posture stooped.
The chair's grain
Protruding as veins
From a gnarled hand.
Its legs are weak
But still retain some strength
As time has toughened them.
Under the dusty film,
A polished surface lies
Waiting for someone to question
Whether it still remains
Wiping a finger
Thru its gritty layer.
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