Sitting Room [a Chair's Tale Contest-- 8th Place]

So here am I, are we, sit us, a chair, a chair, a davenport. White; blue; floral; bright; we linger, and are never used. Soft carpet: plush, divine. So clean, untouched, we wait for a miscreant. 'So you,' said I, 'how long, sat here have you?' 'Too long,' said she, 'years too long it seems.' That chair, so soft, she has eyes for me. Yet here, away, I may merely gape. 'Davenport,' said she, 'look away, have some courtesy.' 'I'm blind!' said he, to she, then I. 'Fifty years, seven months sat here, have I.' And there we sat, for years, for months. And never sat in that room did they-- humans.