The Bridge
The Bridge
I used to stand on that bridge,
light up a cigarette,
and just think.
Look out into the never ending sky,
and count clouds.
Stare at the muddy water,
and wonder
just how far down it goes.
I contemplated death on that bridge.
Crying invisible tears,
hating life,
wondering if I had the guts to end it all.
I didn't.
Instead,
I watched the silver fish swim by.
With no worries,
just doing what fish do.
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