Just another bridge to cross

On the edge of an often path

just another bridge to cross

and throw thoughts into the wind

before ink begins.

How harsh a heart can be

when dwelling in heartbreak

then suddenly laugh about it

as ink dries.

I use to wonder how many times

baby has been in a song

then realized love is the champion

be it right or wrong.

May my final breath be spoken

not written about just another bridge

to cross on the edge of a path

where ink flowed and dried.

burn baby burn

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