Bridges forged with birth
stand not far from the earth.
They are bridges made of wood
and if lit they burn as they should.
Bridges raised for the time of the day
never last after the sun goes astray.
They are bridges made of brick
and if pushed, are gone quick.
Bridges built with time
stand the test that it chimes.
They are bridges made of metal
and they stand on, truly eternal.
Then there are the bridges made as gifts
which stand over the deepest of rifts.
From afar, they seem to be made of gold,
Halfway, too late, we find that it is straw and mould.
We burn bridges with every turn we take
to run away from the monsters we make.
Often we set fire to our bridges to hide from our monsters.
The friends who stand by us burn our bridges
and give us the hope that they never find us.
But it is too late when we realise that
The monsters were our friends
and our friends, the monsters.
It’s been three years since I’ve started blogging, and well, I guess it was worth it. This also counts as my 100TH post. Something truly feels special about such a round number 🙂