The Well Of Memories Poem by john coldwell

Dare you, today, accompany me,
To the murky wells of memory,
It's said we don't remember pain,
We cannot, by recall, wince again,
But there are other hurts and lurking fears,
That return in full, their sobs and tears.

The lid that caps that caustic pot,
Ill fits, and spills at any jot,
Must it, it'sporous prison, once more leave,
And make again the heart bereave?
O that time would fade the dreaded thing!
Or some sacred salve remove it's sting!

At night in dreams, you know when,
We're taken back to madness then,
Our smiling valet's waiting there,
With tailored suit of greydespair,
And misty mirror for me to see,
The reflection there is truly me!