The Well

September 29, 2011
By Anonymous

Something lives inside this well.
And still I wonder why
For something tips its crystal head
Wet feathers to the sky.
Skin is red and raw from tears
Labored not for love
Sobbed a thousand times today
Indifferent sky above.
Still we draw out from this well
"Can't be helped."
We say
Time and death and time will tell
If our path could stray.
Nothing good inside this well
Sweet and sad and warm
Flung from never spiteful eyes
Gray-blue of a storm
Still we never as ourselves
Who gives from beneath
Death and time and death will tell
Pain clenched in her teeth.

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