poems - the bridge in my town

The bridge in my town

slips under the road,

dressed in aging concrete

and moss.

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The bridge in my town

often shelters

those out of luck

from the rain.

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The bridge in my town

is often home to buskers

with guitar cases and hats533Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5w9xtesBjE

open hopefully, laid in front.

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The bridge in my town

is dark

and dismal

and unpleasant to walk through.

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The bridge in my town;

it's underneath filled with colour

legal graffiti

designed to make the area brighter.

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The bridge in my town

is a staple of the area

at least,

in my childhood memories.

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The bridge in my town

shows the way

to the centre of our town, our city.

You can't get there without having been here first.

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The bridge in my town

smells

of cigarettes

and nostalgia.

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My footsteps echo through it

until they fade

and the sunlight hits me.

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