Well Wishers (An Original Poem)
Said the shriveled old man peering into the well,
“I’m terribly sorry that you fell!
This well is getting rather old;
Crumbly rock and nasty mold…”
To the shriveled old man peering down, I did shout,
“Isn’t there some way to get me out?”
He paused for a moment and said with a grin,
“If you really don’t like it, then why’d you fall in?”
I stood there dumbfounded, too shocked to reply.
Would he leave me here to die?
Trapped inside a moldy well,
Shoulder-deep in cold, damp hell?
“Though I’d help you, if I could,
I haven’t ladder- rope nor wood!
I guess I could go find a gun,
but I’m too tired to look for one.”
“A gun?!” I shouted with a start,
“For what- to blow the well apart?”
“No, no!” he chuckled wheezily,
“So you can die more easily!
I’ve no intent to be unkind,
but I’ll leave now if you don’t mind.
Me wife’s at home, the kettle’s on,
I’ve sort of got to use the john.
Sorry to leave you trapped down there,
I’m just too old to really care.”
Samantha Schmidt 11:11 pm on September 8, 2010 Permalink | Log in to Reply
Wrote this my sophomore year of highschool, and still kind of like it. Would love suggestions/feedback! :)