The Bridge

From over where he stood,
Embrasure pursed tight,
Motionlessness was a silent right
Previously never understood.

All through villainous disdain,
He had forged his own noose
While cautiously waiting for that plank to come loose
From the bridge that is oh so hard to maintain.

Enveloped in self-inflicted strangulation,
Pulled taught by the pendulum,
Enhanced in the taste of rum,
And an insinuated shot of miscommunication;

To that bridge he must comply
whatever ineffable dignity may imply.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741