You say I burn bridges
Reckless and without care
But I implore you to listen
Such a judgement is not fair
I did not light the match
I did not start the fire
It was them I say
Who piled up the pyre
But one day I was done.
One day I began to tire.
Of bailing water on the blaze
That persisted in growing higher.
So I stood still.
And let it burn down.
Perhaps it would have lasted
If it were more structurally sound.
By the Brooke 