The Bridge

By Abigail Edwards


There is a bridge between two worlds

A rather old, strong stone bridge

The children on either side reach out

Their fingers just brush across the ridge


The bridge is made up of jumbled stones

A jigsaw of colors and shapes

The stones are weathered but they hold fast

Despite their fair share of scrapes


The bridge has carried many a traveler

While others refuse to cross

They shy away from those on the other side

They never do realize their loss


The bridge welcomes all to meet at the center

The stones bear the hopes of common ground

Every step closer, stronger together

Is a chance of new friendships found

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