Ranting From a Chair

I am but a slave among lives hidden features Who cares what I crave midst these two-legged creatures I crave superb polish and fine furniture wax Extremely strong wood glue and upholstery tacks To be moved more toward the shade and less in the sun To have a tung oil bath, ah, now that would be fun I crave to be gently rocked and read to again Like when grandpa was alive and Jimmy was ten But most of all to stay in my room at the keep And be warmed by the fire until I fall asleep