An afternoon walk across my backyard where there is an old well inspired this. I had just strolled amongst the tall grass which grows and almost
kicked the rusted neglected bucket `.
Sudden inspiration followed and I composed this poem about neglect of what was once useful, now neglected, still owned, but not cared or sought after. Its rusted, unused, leaking but we still had not disposed it : much like our old and aged who worked their heart out but are now neglected in their own homes, un-listened to, if I may refer to it that way.