TAXI.com

The Hard Bridge to BrotherhoodSummer in the late 60s, heat hung in those Brooklyn drapesJoe n Tim playin' Risk, on their fire escapethey'd grab Eskimo pies, at the corner storehear people on their stoops, fighting 'bout the warand like once friendly neighbors, Joe and Tim grew apartJoe went in the army, Tim burned his draft cardone believed in freedom, one thought all you need is lovethey were right...they were wrong, but what they were building wasthe hard bridge to brotherhoodthat leads where mankind should besomeday we'll all live the way we should then we'll look back in tears and seethe hard bridge to brotherhoodJoe never heard the mortar, he stayed low and fought to breathehe soon learned how to roll smokes, with one hand and his teethback home he kept to himself, rarely talked about the warbut he'd limp two miles rather than, buy from the corner storethen one August evening, Tim dropped by to visit JoeJoe shook his kid brother's hand, two minutes 'fore he let gobut as for grabbing his heart, Joe's hook had the stronger gripand forgiveness between fam'lies, is the longest stepon the hard bridge to brotherhoodthat leads where mankind should besomeday we'll all live the way we should then we'll look back in tears and seethe hard bridge to brotherhoodTim suggested they head down, to the old corner storepick up some Eskimo pies, and be kids once morefor a moment Joe forgot, all that he had lostthe smile on that Chinese clerk, helped him get acrossthe hard bridge to brotherhoodthe hard bridge to brotherhood...(c)2007 Robert George