Empty Well

I wrote this poem to express my frustration with my current inability to write and finish a good piece, be it a short story, poem or chapter in the novel I'm trying to write.

I stare down into the well, down into empty black

Wondering where the gushing flow of words went

For the well is dry every time the rope goes slack

And I pull the bucket from it's earthen descent

I stare up at the sun, up at fiery light, so hot and bright

Wondering where the marvellous flow of words went

In the cool dark, I can breathe again and try to write

But I fear all my wonderful words are spent

The End

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