I am a broken bridge.
I am lonely.
I am sad.
I was once a necessity.
Now I’m useless.
I’m a waste of space.
I’m a waste to the world.
A piece of something that is damaged.
Who makes everything look ugly.
Who is a disgrace to the scenery around.
I am a broken bridge.
When people see me they only see my flaws.
They don’t see the beauty in me.
My historic features.
The many stories I hold.
They only see the broken pieces of myself.
That is something I hate the most.
I am a broken bridge, but I hold the worlds most precious tales.
I am a broken bridge.