This bench
Like its brothers has never discriminated
From derriere to derriere or bag from bag
It has stood firm
It's concrete base
Weathering dust storms and rain and trash and crow bajsas
It has united and can seat
4 large children
5 uncomfortably ,squeezed moderately chubby teenagers or
6 tiny first graders
Headquarters for
Girls gossiping
Boys horsing around
Cliques occupying territory
Love birds courting
Never deceiving,
It tells you when there are too many seated
Yet it is kind
And its brothers sit at its shoulder's sides
Like outstretched hands
And if you kneel a little
You could sit between two groups
This rather unloved bench
Nobody to cool it down on summers
When it can't bear the weight of sunlight anymore
Nobody to keep it warm in winters
When it can't bear the weightlessness of the chill
Rather unloved
Nobody takes selfies with it on their farewells
Nobody tags it on their timelines for all the good days
Or the bad days
Or just days where
You've seen me glorious
You've seen me grotesque
Under-loved or rather unloved
Nobody calls you bae or bae-nch or seatie
Even though it's always been our before anyone else's on days
Where we couldn't support ourselves
Wise
It's seen my ancestors
And my descendants
And this soil we still call home
Yet you still sit silently
Waiting for us to come home already
