The Bridge

Where they end.

Hulking and red, the bridge sits
A rather forlorn view of the sea
Oh, the things this bridge has seen
It seems to reflect through clouds of smog
Quiet and looming, rememebering nothing

 

The people come along
Inconspicuously dressed
Looking like your father or aunt
Perhaps a dear friend
They are to someone like you and me

 

And before they jump
There's a moment of hesitation
or dark contemplation
But it makes them freeze, clutching the railing
Until they push away

 

People watch, wondering what to do
But they continue on their business
Trying to ignore the feeling that creeps
It's cold and makes them shiver
And they can't blame it on the weather

 

I bet they question why it happened
A silly little mulling
That has too many answers
Each to the individual
With one event connecting them

 

Maybe we could understand
That we're only grains of sand
That blow with the wind either way
In an hourglass counting each day

 

Their death could effect no one
Or the world in any way
A snapshot of their mind as they look at their death
Before the waters call them away

 

There's a helpless feeling
As you watch
When you want to stop
Call to them
And not change their mind

 

Then there's the saints
The rescuers of men
Who didn't know any of them
Or the darkness of minds

 

They were just there
At the right time
On an every day walk
Only to save
A life on a bridge

Author's Note

I came up with this after watching the documentary called The Bridge. Cameras taped 20 suicides on the Golden Gate Bridge. A lot were also prevented. It's eerie to watch. One woman actually took a bad with her (luckily, she was pulled up before jumping). Suicide is something that is so beyond me, and I can't even understand it.

Reviews

[TLK]

"One woman actually took a bad with her". A bad what?