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