Wishing Well
/…the bottom of the wishing well,
Were all the things I remembered.
The whimsical stories you asked me to tell,
And all of the things you never heard.
At the bottom of the wishing well,
Your words are but a memory;
Of all the bullshit you tried to sell.
What I bought was misery.
At the bottom of the wishing well,
Is where I cast the stone;
To a place where learned lessons dwell,
And the memory of you is only…
By Jessica Doland
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