We made it there, crossed that bridge, and loved each other for it…But where did you go?

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We crossed that bridge, hopped that fence, built our home, stacked that cash, and made our tree

Why, can’t you see?

We made it across the meadow, skipping happily, we went downtown, it seemed we could have it all

But your arrogance was too tall- my questioning too small

            Why, why I don’t understand

            Why you left me so

            You had a lot of nerve, dropping me off

            I thought we had something special, but then you left

This is not a song trying to drive hits, baby, ohhh no.

This is a song describing how you broke my heart and soul

            Maybe you don’t understand

            Maybe you don’t understand

            How hard it is to deal with this

            How hard it is to feel the whole in my heart you have actuated

We crossed that bridge, hopped that fence, built our home, stacked that cash, and made our tree

Why, can’t you see?

We made it across the meadow, skipping happily, we went downtown, it seemed we could have it all

But your arrogance was too tall- my questioning too small

            Oh, maybe it’s the man pulling strings that doesn’t understand

            Controlling us like puppets

            He’ll make you leave and cut my strings

            Maybe he has red horns; why am I the one to suffer?

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Comments (7)
  • Miss Heda on May 3, 2009

    oh this is very sad =o(

  • payge on May 3, 2009

    Been there,did that,dont wanna do it again.A very interesting piece to read.

  • Daisy Peasblossom on May 3, 2009

    Hang in there kid. Time does heal…even if it doesn’t seem like it. Beautiful write.

  • Joie Schmidt on May 3, 2009

    Heartfelt, beautiful, good work*

    Blessings.

    Sincerely,

    -Liane Schmidt.

  • Kate Smedley on May 4, 2009

    Daisy’s right, time does heal, this is beautifully written.

  • Debra. on May 5, 2009

    Sad but so wonderfully written! I loved the format.

  • Erin Cree on May 5, 2009

    Heartfelt writing, your work is always a ‘joy’ (although maybe the wrong word for this particular poem) to read.

    Erin

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