Stuck in a drought.

In Wisconsin, we've got a severe drought thats been going on the past couple weeks. Its been almost two months without rain,(except a couple minor sprinkles).

Scraping off the rust was tough.
It's the only thing that made me
forget about the drought.

I cut my finger on my already cramping hand.
You asked about the emergency room.
I figured they'd just laugh.

There's a shape of a man in a wooden chair.
He's rocking himself to sleep.
He dreams of stitches weaving
and splintered Jesus freaks.

Its time to tap the well again.
I quietly pray for oil.
Maybe if I strike it rich,
my blood would pump awhile.

Waiting's not enough,
when there's nothing good around.
No matter where I go,
I'm in the same damn town.

There's a face of a boy on a wooden horse
with a mop-like head of hair,
setting fire to the wooden porch.

Even if I could ride it to water,
It'd still be stubborn of course.

Complaining is not enough,
when nothing's all that bad.
No matter where I go,
I'm still stuck in my own damn head.

Reviews

[zainul]

Oh,wonderful!
What review is possible for such a good write?
All the thoughts are nicely painted on the canvass.
Using the same phrase,"No matter where I go," in two stanzas sounds amazing.

[afra]

i can relate a lot with this poem ....good job and keep writing