Danielle N. Calhoun

MY BRIDGE

Danielle N. Calhoun: My Bridge I went to my bridge,
Where the water used to sing,
I looked below,
Barely able to see.

My reflection so pale,
My face so weak,
I did not cry,
Nor did I speak.

I just stared,
And thought to myself,
How could this world,
All go to hell?

There is war and famine,
Fires and fights,
Nothing is good,
Nothing is right.

The water,
It used to sing,
Now it is polluted,
No symphony does it ring.