neon skies and walk- bys how hard to remember thise faces. forgotten people, and they leave ni traces. How unfair we dont have the ability to carry ourselves and all of them. how cruel we can fall too far buf onlt fly so high. And if we try to hard we are plucked right out the sky. How sad to see someone fight so hard for their wings to simply die. But it wont stop you from trying. You'll still keep others feom dying. You'll wipe their teara when your friends are crying. Youll shine brighter than the sun so when they see the dark they know where to run. How kind you are to be the one, who knows when a smile-chain has begun. If i could be greater and better and grand, Id help you out. Someday- Ill give you a hand.

I knew the story of the quote, "they belong to The Bridge," before I stepped onto its slippery *****. Onlt the brave people spoke of it, and even they said it's name as if it were a curse. The Bridge was there for as long as people could remember, some remember it more than others. I stepped onto The Bridge to endure its wrath. I couldn't see because it was dark around me, the towns folk who weren't scared to go into details whispered stories of how the outside vision is a representation of the inside quietus. The Bridge was a short cut over the vast oceans. I began to slowly move forward. Because slow is the only way to move on The Bridge. I'd heard shuddering stories of The Bridge and how it'd torn families apart and yet it didn't stop me from reaching the path. As I moved on I remembered all the stories of the people who weren't brave enough to finish walking The Bridge and jumped off the sides into the raging waters, some found their way back while others weren't capable. And as I take my final footfall before I step off of The Bridge I can't stop myself from thinking, am I being brave or scared?