A View From A Bridge

Alone on a small bridge,
he cried for his lost lover.
He took from his pocket a small note,
worn from his constant touch.
“Goodbye,” it said, “I’ll miss you.”
He sobbed, the tears drenching the paper.
Peering over the rotting rail, he pictured himself jumping.

He wanted to die; to be with her.
Although he hated life, his will to live was too strong.
One final tear was wiped from his eye,
as he kissed the note and threw it over.
A gentle wind carried it to the stream below.
Watching it flow with the calm water, he whispered “I love you.”
Not looking back, he left the bridge, never to return.