The iron rod seems to have rusted
after being oxidised with your fake promises.
The bridge looks weary,
for it's been long since you coated it with love.
The screws happen to fall,
every now and then, as my tears do.
With each step it shakes and creaks a bit more
as my soul rips seeing you betray me beautifully.
And with all this you ask me why I burnt the bridge.?
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