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Poem

When it comes to bridging out,
This is what it is about...
Bridges which I build alone
And I scale on my own.
Some are near and some are far...
More beyond this, others are.
All of them are implemented...
Connections are represented.

Some bridges are built with ease...
Their efforts merely a breeze.
Others, laboured with more time...
Reason suits and fits the rhyme.
Regardless of length and make,
Each one has a path I take.
In my tread, there is no queue
As I progress towards you.

In my life of bridging out,
There is no question or doubt...
Some of the bridges I crossed
Have succumbed to someone lost.
Results of their sudden burn...
Lessons taught, of which I learn.
If our bridge was burnt as such,
Know that I have learnt this much...

I did not mean for construction
Of our bridge to meet destruction.
The least I offer and extend...
Apologies to you, my friend.
Like the mending of a quilt,
My mistake can be rebuilt.
If this suffices, let me know
And I will start rebuilding so.

All my life, I have bridged out...
This is what it is about.
Scaling my bridges - in my trips,
Aiming to form relationships.
As time goes on, my confession
Is to make further progression...
Persistence as I continue
Building my bridges to cross through.

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