The Art of Love

Little Brown Broken Bridge

Far across, drifting in the unknown sea,
Stood a little brown bridge for her to be
A boat of dreams, tracing far in the sky
A casket of hope, the gleam in his eye

Opposite ends, the feeling of his clutch
One step closer, ’til they could almost touch
Filling the empty space, the vacant void,
Reminding them of everything enjoyed.

All that was once there, once loved, fading dark,
She shout reaching ‘cross, aching for that spark,
The one that used to comfort from one gaze,
Staring from afar, fading in a blaze.

Glancing around, finally all alone,
He was all gone, if only she had known,
Bridge burnt piece by piece, as the tightrope cracked,
Bracing herself for the final impact.

Not a yell, just the flutter of her eyes,
As she finally shut out all his lies,
Falling backwards losing self dreamily,
Finally letting herself go freely.

Realizing really for all along,
He never did her any more than wrong,
Took her real long enough to realize,
Beauty was already in her own eyes.

As they had finally fluttered open,
Emerged a strong, independent woman.

And I could not be more proud.

Special thanks to Emma, for being my little girl stuck on her shaky bridge. As distant as we may be now, I promise I will be at the bottom to catch you, if one day you ever do fall. You are strong, stronger than you will ever realize.

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