The Well

by Skye Bothma about a year ago in sad poetry

On Embracing Grief

The Well

The day you left me, a giant hole formed in my heart,

a bottomless pit of despair.

Yet the people around me saw nothing.

And how could I tell them?

They could not understand.

They expected me to be like them.

And so, I hid the well.

Covered the opening with boards and dirt,surrounded it with a barbed wire fence,

and abandoned it.

Though I still thought of you,

and missed you,

The well became a distant memory.

I almost forgot it was there.

Then many years later,

a storm blew through.

Ripped out the fence,

hurled away the dirt and boards,

exposed the well.

My grief came flooding back,

my tears spilling out,

filling the old well.

Weak and spent,

I awake to see the dawn break,

shafts of sunlight paint the edges gold,

dewdrops glisten like diamonds.

And looking down I see the bright blue sky reflected on the still waters.

Strengthened, I start building a stone wall,

wooden pillars and a roof,

I add a winch and bucket.

Around the well I plant flowers,

heliotrope just for you.

A place for the fairies to play,

for the birds and animals to shelter and rest.

The well is now my sanctuary.

sad poetry
Skye Bothma
Skye Bothma
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Skye Bothma

Skye is an author and artist living the country dream in rural New Zealand. She's terminally single, and lives with her pet rabbit, Trixie. Follow her at: or visit her website:

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