The bridge, this bridge
that will seal my fate; and return when reached,
and to no longer endure,
my life being interrupted or breached,
ever again as life can really teach—
for the only place to head,
forwards and towards,
is the bridge and to what awaits me—
anxiously on the opposite side,
for the only thing separating me,
and the destiny that was always; meant for me,
was unknowingly and allowing my mind,
to cast the bridge—
both between and away from; my real self,
The bridge
PM
The bridge that exists between
myself and the best version of myself,
is a pathway unlike anything else—
as I can see the very distance,
from one side to the next—
as I look both right and left,
for the place of betterment—
is not as far away as it seems,
and not a far cry for what I deem,
to be quite apparent in my eyes,
with no more obstacles to bear,
unless I place them there—
thereby getting in my own way,
and no limits placed except for those,
that I put upon myself as well,
for the bridge signals—
the way back to my true self,
the one that life and things thereof,
have gotten in the way,
just a bit too much; and as such,
the real version of me—
is being reflecting from and across,
The other side of the bridge
PM
