Poison The Well

Barely able to keep the lids open
At times I might think I need the rest
but who would want to go back there?
It's already hard enough to say I need it.
bad memories and good times.
Keep me from believing that I can still jump off.
No longer, no longer the same.
you grow accustomed to seeing the sun in a different location.
Standing still becomes a chore.
Anxious to get the pavement moving.
The easy solution to this and everything else is to move on.
It comes equipped with the last word.