Poetry Time

There's a poem rattling around in my head.  Ode to abandonment or some such thing.  The image is of a well, but I don't know if I've been thrown down it or am looking down.  The words well, yell, and hell all rhyme.  But a couplet surely seems inapposite.  Meter out of whack.  The sense of talking into silence.  Not knowing and frustrated.  A fresh visciousness seared into the mind to call up later when needed.  Like a bad smell.