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the poisoned well of my inspiration
no longer quenches
the thirst of my longing.

those crystal clear waters that once sustained me and were a balm
to my parched lips are now tainted
with the quick silvered spill of regret.

i stand here, peering into these waters.
i wonder, can this well be saved?
or should i take the advice of the experts, and cap it now, before it takes another life?

i beat my head
against the cold stones of my resistance.  

giving up is so hard;
it runs counter to my nature. 

i stand here, watching
as an acid rain falls down.  

i stand here, my eyes locked on the scattered image of myself in the water below.

i stand here, my feet frozen in their place.

 i stand here, tossing pennies
at a face with eyes accusing,

eyes with answers i don't want to know.

— The End —