The Well

[GoodRedRoad]

She stood at the edge of a well,
staring into its depths;
seeing colors and
swirling patterns that
mesmerized her and drew her into
swaying, eyes fixed, but unfocused, and her
so dangerously close to falling in.

There was a ticking
that broke her gaze,
tearing her away from
the fall she would take if time let her,
telling her she was alive and
snapping her back to reality.
It was torture-
they loved to watch her lean into death so intimately.
They stopped the ticking for longer and longer-
the more she held on, the more they held back.

Eventually, they will grow old and forget about the girl
and she will be enveloped in spirals and dots of color.
She will forget that she isn't part of the well,
and she will dive in.

That's the way it will always be.



Unless she learns to keep herself up.

[bk_writer]

This is a very visual poem. The poem is so beatifully put togethor, that I get a continous image throughout.

[unstructured]

Great work- beautiful imagery and good rythm

[GoodRedRoad]

thanks. i didn't really like this one at all. i mean, i regretted putting it up as soon as i did, but i'm glad you guys enjoyed it. it's all i can ask for, you know?