Bridges
…
There are bridges everywhere
Adorned with padlocks by the score
Tis where young men and women too
So often throw their lives away
All tightly locked, just hanging there
With no reason, or a single key in sight …
Bridges
…
There are bridges everywhere
Adorned with padlocks by the score
Tis where young men and women too
So often throw their lives away
All tightly locked, just hanging there
With no reason, or a single key in sight …
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Comments6
But bridges are also the way to join each other and walk together along that pathway of happiness.
Andy
Thank you .. they are indeed Andy .. and you are a credit to optimism sir ..
Good write Neville.
I know such a bridge. It's to keep people off private land.
...................... after much consideration, welcome to my abridged response Orchidee .. and no offence intended but those are called fences .. Cheers, Neville 🙂
The lure of bridges worldwide must provide a sad how for the unbalanced to say their goodbyes and your words lock this fact clearly into a shock-of-a-read Nev. with final lines sounding down so well the hopeless whys of such tragic endings to young lives.......
Thank you my lady Fay ... there is a particular bridge in Bulgaria that inspired these words .. but they are sadly everywhere ..
Not sure if it's intentional or not but I can read into this. great bit of penmanship .
......................................................... thank you most kindly Michael .. All Good Things, Neville
A bridge - a way to overcome a problem/where two purposes meet.
Life and death to some but easy life for others.
A bridge, a beginning, a step into the unknown for lifers.
So much to read into your piece today. Pictures, opportunities, failures and sadness are but a few. Though sadness prevails.
.. I am so glad you were able to see several possibilities here DA and that a thread of sadness prevailed throughout ... Many thanks indeed sir ..
.. Neville
oh my talented friend how deftly you capture those wishful winds of young lover's, vehemently clinging to the all or nothing, of the now
that often fails us and sails-on-by, till we are left wondering at what we purpled ourselves: grasping, as if our very breaths, were fuelled by it
brilliant!
My word my friend .. I feel mightily indulged and supremely spoilt by you today .. Many thanks indeed L.B ......
Neville
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