Dried and cracked the wishing well was and alone in a field of weeds. The only sound heard was a locust's buzz as it munched on the thirsty reeds. At the bottem of the well lay a lonely dream tossed down and forgotten long ago. It was a wish for a trickle through a barren stream where the sun dried up its flow. Now the searing orb glistens on the shiny alm in a mockery of its prayer. For the token freely offered didnt' tickle Rain's palm...it enticed the sun to drink the water there.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem as a way of saying that no matter how
hard you might wish for something or wish for things to
get better, sometimes life laughs at you then bites you
in the butt.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Celena A. Brown-Scorpio.