Erosion

No one cares to think, write or read
With proper words that should supersede
the face of low commonality.
Thus we see our tongues now rot.

Artificial bridges "built to last",
Were shapped by such conniving casts.
True strength- so solid- long since past;
An art form now forgot.

While dusk and dawn continue on,
I find their light less crisp.
No bridges left to tread upon,
Save those with too high a risk.

With love,
Tom