Wednesday, October 14, 2015

The Bridge

It rattled and creaked as the wind of time
Weaved through its ageing wood.
I never walked back once I crossed,
They didn't try convincing,
None could.

Poison ivy of memories grew on its footsteps,
Threatening to crossover in my new world.
I burned that parasite of a bridge,
One day when my anger hurled.

Its ashes lay dead; benign,
They only ache my heart when I look.
And I don't look; I have erased my thoughts,
And regret is off the hook.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Leave Me Comments: