Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The Well

I’m a quitter
Wouldn’t know me if I tried,
I use to think
I kind of
Had a sense of pride

But that fell down
Into the well
Before the bucket dropped to catch,
I spun the wheel
With all my might
Man, that rope could stretch

Muscles churned
Red skin burned
Soft tears
Mixed with
Rough sweat

Though hard I tried
The rope gave way
I lost my only friend
He flew straight down
That black abyss
Like many other men

I’m left alone
To fight in vain
A battle to the end

My guts
I rip
And turn
And twist
The hunger digs in deep,
When this is through
I’ll get to you
Then maybe
We can sleep

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Haunted Allusions: The Well

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The Well