Drip
Drop Wells
Copyrights Reserved
“Drip Drop Wells "
I would have to yell for you to notice me.
I may not know that you are even noticing me.
The huge fields and massive brooks.
Where must I exist between them?
Why ask who even cares.
Who really knows the drip drop wells or where it is.
Beams of sunlight - grasses of softened dew.
Walking but not seen and hardly words to speak with.
Empty and more empty then a day that first came.
Back and fro the skirts of thoughts just share no one else in mind with no one in mind.
It's tough when not knowing.
So lousy when I do.
Prairies may hide me when rivers would fill me.
Quiet naps and settled breaths may be what are most needed.
Is the duty to request the dams to be opened?
Squeaky rusty levers cannot be budged.
The drip drop wells are not even out here.
Just to clench a mix pod of ideas.
When do you ever think to go lost?
How do you come back when you go nowhere?
Is it ever going to be the same?
Will the same ever be what you know I know?
Can prairies nap with breaths that give way to beams of sunlight?
Will you be here knowing that the yells come and they come when no one is seen or heard?
Are you happy to let the rest of your life and my life be empty and more empty.
Is the pose of never doing what could be helpful to me be what the proof is?
Alright drip drop wells.... this is about the end of sitting where no one knows this has been on the land.
To exist and once work and be brilliant and adored. It's at the end of its life I imagine. Maybe not.
Though certainly it will and never can be the same.
The term to be here was now and now the term is shorter and slimmer.
Be what you make as you plan to see it made.
Peace
Copyrights Reserved
Carrie Adams
I would have to yell for you to notice me.
I may not know that you are even noticing me.
The huge fields and massive brooks.
Where must I exist between them?
Why ask who even cares.
Who really knows the drip drop wells or where it is.
Beams of sunlight - grasses of softened dew.
Walking but not seen and hardly words to speak with.
Empty and more empty then a day that first came.
Back and fro the skirts of thoughts just share no one else in mind with no one in mind.
It's tough when not knowing.
So lousy when I do.
Prairies may hide me when rivers would fill me.
Quiet naps and settled breaths may be what are most needed.
Is the duty to request the dams to be opened?
Squeaky rusty levers cannot be budged.
The drip drop wells are not even out here.
Just to clench a mix pod of ideas.
When do you ever think to go lost?
How do you come back when you go nowhere?
Is it ever going to be the same?
Will the same ever be what you know I know?
Can prairies nap with breaths that give way to beams of sunlight?
Will you be here knowing that the yells come and they come when no one is seen or heard?
Are you happy to let the rest of your life and my life be empty and more empty.
Is the pose of never doing what could be helpful to me be what the proof is?
Alright drip drop wells.... this is about the end of sitting where no one knows this has been on the land.
To exist and once work and be brilliant and adored. It's at the end of its life I imagine. Maybe not.
Though certainly it will and never can be the same.
The term to be here was now and now the term is shorter and slimmer.
Be what you make as you plan to see it made.
Peace
Copyrights Reserved
Carrie Adams
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