Canvas of Emotions: Painted in Poetry

Bridges

I can almost understand why people leap from bridges, 
Why they stand there, teetering, hearts heavy with fissures. 
In a world that screams and shouts, 
Yet never hears the whispers of despair that drown out.

The weight of silence is a killer, 
A noose that tightens, makes the soul a thriller. 
On the edge, they see it all: 
The shattered dreams, the pain that stands so tall.

What’s it like to feel so hollow, 
To search for hope in darkness, but only find sorrow? 
They look down at the water, reflecting a void, 
Each ripple a reminder of joy that’s been destroyed.

In that split second, freedom feels so close, 
But the leap isn’t freedom—it’s an escape from the ghosts. 
A flight from the struggle, the hurt that won’t cease, 
A heart breaking open, longing for release.

But oh, the stories left unsaid, 
The cries that echo in a mind full of dread. 
So many standing on that edge, feeling alone, 
Wishing for a bridge to carry them home.