He bought a postcard with a bridge on the front

The bridge wasn’t much but the sky was bluer than most

On the back he wrote a poem about a boy that loved his friends but couldn’t do the same for himself

Those were his last words and now he’s gone for good

I looked at the rain and thought of the tears in his mother’s eyes

I thought about my grandma when her daughter died

I’ll try to live longer than my mom and dad

 

Brooklyn Bridge

You’ve never even been there

Brooklyn Bridge

Probably just the sky