Poem - Passing Time

A sizeable crowd has gathered in town

to watch as an obsolete building comes down,

Just the lonely and elderly looking for ways

to fill up the hours of their long empty days,

gazing in wonder, flinching in shock

at the crash of plummeting concrete block.

Watching the destruction,

causing an obstruction.

It’s something to do

‘til the next bus is due.

A notable landmark, I know the place well -

it once was an upmarket stylish hotel

with a fine reputation for serious nosh

back in the days when prawn cocktails were posh.

But over the years it faded, grew dated,

to a new generation - old hat, overrated.

Now monster machinery chomps at the walls,

dust clouds erupt as the edifice falls

reducing a tower of seventeen floors

to a pitiful tangle of rubble and doors.

Now I’m pretty busy - got things to do

but awed by the spectacle, I stop too.

Idly watching slack-jawed for a spell

as a mechanoid dinosaur eats a hotel,

enjoying each thunderous, sickening crunch,

I just need a bucket of popcorn to munch.

It’s a sociable crowd,

the buzz is quite loud

but it’s soon clear to me

they don’t see what I see.

They have fond reminisces, stories to share -

they had dates and romantic proposals in there,

21st birthdays, the odd Christmas do,

wedding receptions were held here too.

They’re peering through the dusty haze

to misty fond-remembered days

to a happier time,

to a place in its prime

recounting how it was back then,

recalling shining moments when

they were, on joyous afternoons,

waved off to seaside honeymoons.

Saying goodbye to what survives

of fading pages of their lives.

Really enjoyed reading that

A sizeable crowd has gathered in town

to watch as an obsolete building comes down.

A notable landmark, I know the place well -

it once was an upmarket stylish hotel

Also a venue for serious nosh

back in the days when prawn cocktails were posh.

 

So a crowd has turned out

and they’re hanging about

observing the destruction,

causing an obstruction.

Just the lonely and elderly looking for ways

to fill up the hours of their long empty days.

 

Monster machinery chomps at the walls,

a dust clouds erupts as the edifice falls

reducing the tower of seventeen floors

to a tangle of rubble and windows and doors.

The mesmerised watchers are rapt by the way

the ravenous creature devours its prey,

gazing in wonder, flinching in shock

at the crash of plummeting concrete block.

 

I don’t want to look like I’ve nowt else to do

but, awed by the spectacle, I stop too,

earnestly gazing slack-jawed for a spell

as a mechanoid dinosaur eats a hotel,

watching each thunderous, sickening crunch,

I just need a bucket of popcorn to munch.

 

It’s a sociable crowd,

the buzz is quite loud

but its soon clear to me

they’re not seeing what I see.

 

A lot of these people have stories to tell share -

they had dates and romantic proposals in there,

21st birthdays, the odd Christmas do

and wedding receptions were held there too.

Some were brides and grooms

in those now demolished rooms.

 

Now they gaze through the dusty haze

to misty fond remembered days

to a happier time,

to a place in its prime

when they were, on joyous afternoons,

waved off to seaside honeymoons

and I realise

they’re saying their goodbyes.

Like my signature says ' Bring back the Grovsener Hotel ' vote now for Crooked spire! Seriously nice bit of poetary.

Bit late for that, it's just a pile of rubble now!