My Bridge

There once was a bridge,
whose path I crossed each day.
As if it was my sentence.
Just to cross and say I did,
because only I cared if I didn't.
So, I crossed it for no purpose.

One day I came across a pair of shoes
and a cell phone,
sitting on the edge of the bridge.
I kicked the shoes over
and took the cell phone,
selling it for drugs.

I was told a body was found
along the river down stream,
about two weeks later.

I think I will go cross my bridge.

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Key Words : addiction, recovery, suicide, mental illness

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This Poems Story

Not so long ago I was on the streets. Addicted to drugs and living homeless in downtown Pasco. I crossed the cable bridge hundreds of times, as if it was my sentence. I wrote this poem titled- My Bridge, while I was still living on the streets.