This bridge isn't an object (Poem)

A bridge to connect them to the next path,
Though some find comfort from the subtle art.
That sit in spaced-out awe feeling too.
Memories of rocks skipping and trains hopping,
A place of retreat and youthful aggression.
Temporary paradise and reflection,
The place you were once and the place you are gone.
This bridge isn't an object, rather a soul, timid, but strong,
A soul staying frequent and the rest moving on.