Had to trek
The long excruciating stretch
That I may stretch
Little amounts to fetch
My thirst to quench
I sit by the well
Like am in a cell
Waiting for the bell
That my pot may be well
Away from this hell
By the well in pain
Wishing it would rain
My thirst to quench and drain
Activate my shut brain
And wash this stain
This windlass
In shades of dried grass
To touch I can’t trust
As my skin will burst
Tetanus squeeze through the crust
The old rope
Gives me no hope
My water to cope
Or me to lope
Down the slope
This bucket
Hard but fragile
Large but sieved
Handled but scorched
Efficient but useless
The well!
The well so clean
The water so sweet
The top so neat
An awesome well
All for myself

About Author

I am a very open-minded, passionate and rational. Strong willed would describe how I face life. My firm stands on what I believe in are often confused for being opinionated. I speak the truth, regardless cost and to whom it is due. My spirit is in each article. I share from deep within. Based on my experiences and those of my friends. This is my rant.

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