The Old Bridge


Walked along the old bridge.

Summer comes

and we’re both chasing old times.

We were just punk kids.

Didn’t know

what we would do

with our lives.

A couple six packs

and a bag of weed,

an old guitar,

and that was all we needed

to burn away the day.

Thought we were gonna learn that way.

Summer came and went

and life stepped in.

Took you one way

and left me all alone again.

I tried to hide my pain

behind every kind of smoke.

The razor, and the needle,

and the rope.

But I found hope.

Or was it hope

that found me?

Something to love,

someone who believed.

I still drive by that bridge

every now and then.

I think about my friends

and what happened to them.

I know some got married,

and others had some kids.

Some fought their demons and lost,

and some are still fighting.

I don’t linger on those old days,

because life will pass us by.

If we’re looking in the rearview mirror

we miss out every time.

I still enjoy a six pack,

but I don’t smoke anymore.

I still keep an old guitar,

and sometimes remember what it’s for.

When summer comes around again

I know I’ll feel a call

to go walk along that old bridge

and remember it all.

This road I’m on keeps going,

but I will not forget.

I remember every moment

and I have only one regret;

that I am here

and some good friends didn’t get

over that old bridge yet.



DJR – 2023

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