They Drive By

They drive by.
One by one.
Slowly yet calmly gliding past me.
Far away;
yet still causing a sort of pain,
pain you only feel when you see something pass you by that you wish would stay.

The two bridges are connected,
yet separate.
The sky is grey,
the water is brown,
and no land is seen for miles around.

My drive is pulling me in one direction,
a direction in which I've been traveling in for many years.
Nothing in front of me and nothing behind me, just me and the bridge.

The two bridges are connected,
yet separate.
The sky is grey,
the water is brown,
and no land is seen for miles around.

I look across the water to see the other bridge,
the bridge that I envied with a passion. 
Cars and trucks moved by slowly, 
which is what I hated most about them.

They move by slow enough to see them clearly,
to see the intentions of the vehicles and where they're going,
I can see them clear as day, going past me in the opposite direction.

Friends,
girlfriends,
Brothers,
Sisters,
mothers,
fathers.
I see them drive past me, with hope in their headlights.

The two bridges are connected,
yet separate.
The sky is grey,
the water is brown,
and no land is seen for miles around.

I stare down the road to see the faintly painted yellow bracketed  lines,
a sign that I could always change the direction of my journey. 

The two bridges are connected,
yet separate.
The sky is grey,
the water is brown,
and no land is seen for miles around.

It will be hard,
it will take time,
but my direction can change.
The nature of my journey is unknown; as well as how it started and the how it will end,
but the journey I will change, 
The journey I will have to change,
will lead me somewhere far away, far enough to make a difference in the road we all travel on.

The two bridges are connected,
yet separate.
The sky is grey,
the water is brown,
and no land is seen for miles around.
And I have reached the end.