Poem Hunter
Under The Bridge

Under The Bridge

Busy cars rush past your head,
echoes round and round as you hear a dropp of water ripple in the current
its safe here, the monsters cant get you under the bridge
only the sound of cars and the plucking of your strings
strumming a happy song about the times you used to have

nothing makes sense, why are we here, how long before i get her back?
should i be doing something more useful?
maybe get a job or help my friend get back on top

but that dont matter right now
as the beer intoxicates your mind, your problems fade into the abyss
and all that matters is what chord you play next
under the bridge of broken dreams.

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