Burned Bridges

When I chose

To burn my bridges to you,

O what a stupid choice I made,

For I burned my fingers with the matches.

When I changed

My mind and wished to return,

The way to you I found not,

It lay before me now as smoldering ashes.

When I looked,

Hope had been consumed by coals,

Angry flames had lapped up my stupidity -

I learned one cannot return over burned bridges.

© Loyd C. Taylor