Wishing Well Poem by Bill Cantrell

If my pen could save life,
Then I would be one anointed,
By the most high
Yet, death keeps taking my loved ones

To cast a spell,
Upon the maiden,
To serve my every need,
Would be to forfeit my dignity
And yet, I am a man

To grant everyone's wishes,
Would be my undoing
It would turn sheep into vipers
Again, I find myself giving

And here, I vent my pain,
My hearts desires,
To touch,
To feel,
To attempt a piece,
Of all the things mentioned,
I find myself,
A simple poet
And this is enough for me