The Golden gate

Golden gate bridge

Walking on the golden gate bridge,
I felt like a writer
who has lots in mind to write
but can't find any words.

I felt like a blind man,
who can feel the cool sweet breeze
touching his face, wallowing his hair
perceiving all sensitive sensations
but can not picture the view,
can not imagine the scenery

I wondered about those 900
who commit suicide every year
by jumping from it,
what pain they must be suffering
what trauma they might have endured
that even this atmosphere can not soothe.

Walking on the Golden Gate
I felt satisfied yet incomplete.
I felt emotional yet inexpressive.
I saw heaven yet demanded more.
I felt immortal yet glad to be mortal.
I was happy yet felt a pain somewhere.
Walking on the Golden Gate,
I experienced pure life.

[This was written some day in July but put in drafts]