Can't touch me can't see me, but you can feel me,
Can't catch me can't trap me but you can fetch me.
I am the ugly spirit of the eternal darkness if you can't tell,
Yes it's me, the ghost of the well.

I roam about everywhere as my corpse rots, holes in my leather jacket from when I was shot.
My skull slashed in two with an axe in my head,
Marigolds grow out of it burying the haunting life I had lead.

Folks have stories about me being mean and scarry,
They tell their kids about my pointy teeth and how my hands are hairy.

They say I come out when it's dark and there is no moon in sight,
Only if they knew how much I love the starry bright light.

I sit on the tallest branch and float everywhere,
Join the cats of the streets as I have secrets to tell.
And as the night gets darker and villagers slumber, I spy the thieves and watch the secret lovers.

From watching children play to listen women whisper,
my days pass by while the well grows drier and my flesh whithers.
I roam around every where for years as my name disappears into thin air,
No one knows me, my land and clan gone without a care.

And just like that I died twice, first in my life and then in people's minds.
You might wonder what my name was and honestly neither I remember it to tell,
It was forgotten and buried deep in some dry old well.

#writco #poem


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