poetry bitches

There is a bridge
Its existence has long been forgotten 
by minds turned cold with age
Doubt, molded my reality's fingers,
creeps upon you with time
upsetting every facet of thought
changing you from the mind out

There is a bridge
Its existance has only just been discovered
by untainted minds so green with life
Doubt, like an opportunist it is, has not yet
penetrated their ability to believe
but waits for a moment of loss

There is a bridge
this bridge exists
in eyes that can morph reality
without stepping a toe on its actuality
To get lost in creation,
your world becomes more than an illustration

There is a bridge
This bridge exists
In a tangible way
a bridge is a bridge
forgotten minds do say