Breaking Bridges: The Depressing Departure Of A Broken Man

A short poem regarding Wayne Bridge.....

Crepe paper hat torn on Blue Peter hair,
Poppers sit dormant on nicely laid cloth.
Alone sits the man on his cheap plastic chair,
Hush broken by clock ticks and one single cough.


The door remains shut as Bridgey sits there, 
Disco lights dulled, the mixing decks still.
This personless party a fitting fanfare,
He rises to fetch a depressing refill.


And alone at the TV screen Bridgey will stare;
Unwelcome premonition chilling his blood.
England dreams smashed by the JT affair,
Euro-lympic dreams that were nipped in the bud. 


A career of false starts, recent trophy shelf bare,
So away to the Black Cats, can he prove he’s a fighter?
Abandoned, he thinks, does he even still care?
Suitcase packed tight, heart now closed even tighter.

Chewing on one last chocolate éclair,
He stands up to leave -- his phone shakes with a buzz.
Its message scant comfort in this cold, lonely lair:
<<Hey what day’s your leaving do happening, cuz?>>





Written by Jude Ellery
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