Poetry

Empty Well (#1839)

The well remains silent and dark,
Absent of any and all creative spark,
Perhaps I withdrew far too much,
The walls are cold and dry to the touch,
It’s no one’s fault but my own,
I got too caught up being in the zone,
I didn’t see how low it was getting,
Stopping to recharge I kept forgetting,
Now I have no choice but to wait,
To give the well the time to rehydrate,
It slipped my mind in my literary gusto,
The well doesn’t have an endless flow,

Any Thoughts?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.