Burning Bridges

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sometimes, you're only choice is to burn a bridge, no matter how much it hurts.

Submitted: September 08, 2015

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Submitted: September 08, 2015

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These bridges,

O’ they are a-burning,

And i don’t think I’m going to stomp them out now.

If the bridge could catch fire in the first place,

Then I wonder why it was even built.

Some people only stay for a season,

And they always leave without a reason.

This time I had a chance to burn a bridge,

And I took it because you were a bad friend.

Once things got tough,

You backed away,

Pushed me down and kicked dirt in my face,

Before you ran away,across the bridge,

Thinking I would come crawling back.


But you didn’t expect me,

To walk over to your side,

Just to douse it with kerosene.

And I lit our bridge on fire,

And watched it burn to ashes.

I shed a couple tears back then,

But then I looked through the flames,

And saw that you didn’t care at all.

That’s when I fanned the flames,

And made sure the bridge was burned,

Before I turned away,

With the smokestacks billowing high,

Into the morning sky.


© Copyright 2018 Melancholic Wisdom. All rights reserved.

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