The bridge softly
crrreaks
under my feet.
Gaping holes stare
at me,
accusing foolishness.
They know, just like
I know, that this
is wrong,
this is unsafe.
Flinching at their
angry stares, I
look back then
forward;
my friend is
disappearing into the
swirling fog.
My steps are quick
and sudden. I don't
want to lose her.
Faster and faster,
I can't find her.
The bridge seems
endless; the fog
is taunting
me, laughing.
Breathing makes
more fog to
trap me
and wrap me
around.
Wait! I see her,
at least a shape.
One more step and I
fall...
Did anyone notice how I tried to make the poem look like the bridge? No? Darn. This poem was actually inspired by something in my life for once. When I go to Lizzie's house, we have to walk her dog. Sometimes her parents tell us to walk him at the park behind her building. This requires crossing a bridge. Being the paranoid person that I am, I always imagine one of the boards breaking, and me falling.
*cocks head sideways* ...I see it! Haha, love it. I wasn't afraid of bridges until a few days ago my literature teacher talked about all the old bridges we have around here that shouldn't even be legal to drive on... :3
ReplyDeleteBecause that's what we all want to hear. XD
ReplyDeleteHey, you changed your picture.
I see the bridge! I love your poem. And I personally love bridges (no lie - I love bridges). It's fun to run across them.
ReplyDeleteIt is very fun to run across them but I still find it scary if I think about it too much.
ReplyDeleteYeah! It's me! (Thank you Dr. Dipwad.) With a ponytail...in case I look bald. My friends and I had a large conversation about that today. xD I look like I'm laughing about a dirty joke I shouldn't be laughing about. :3
ReplyDeleteI like this poem Brooke :) I really can't write any kind of poetry...way to go!
ReplyDeleteThank you. ^^ I've been writing poetry for two or three years now, I can't exactly remember. XD
ReplyDeleteI read through your whole blog yesterday. I love how you implement your pictures.