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Burned Briges

I stand on one side of a river of pain once bridged.

Now dose the bridge stand in flames soon to be ash.

I watch the flames knowing that in a moment of grief and sorrow I stuck the match that began the blaze.

The bridge crumbles before my eyes.

If I had the chance I would fight the blaze.

This is not a fight I can win alone.

Perhaps in time the old bridge will be rebuilt.

I can now only hope it will.

The smoke fills the air. Perhaps I should have suffered in silance. Now I will do just that.

Silently dose the bridge burn and silently I cry for its loss.

By Caja

Dedecated to the Bridge I should never have burned and now is too late to rebuild.

I love you Grandma Rest well in Paridice

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