A Friend's Grace is like a Well.

A thousand times have you muddied the waters with your broken oar,
Though you knew the waters of friendship were clean and sweet,
Once given your cup, you sloshed your precious dram upon the floor
Thinking that to fill your friendship cup again was no great feat
But when the cup was empty, the well gave you no succor
Then, you sorely cursed the well, and cried into your sheets

Said you saw more than others; Shaman-like, your vision burned
But I knew you saw the future through mild hallucinations
I shall not pass again, and will on this road now sadly turn
You thought your vision was no more than an apotheosis
Was it all so clear to you, this homespun, back-woods divination?
You saw what was not there, and will suffer your own mind's spurn.