Walking alongside the pier admiring the views of the bobbing yachts
Vibrant waves are splashing against jagged rocks
Young boys sit patiently on the side of the pier rod in hand
Line in the sea awaiting the catch
While older men look on observing their throws
Children run alongside mothers pushing buggies
Mindlessly enjoying the afternoon sun
Lovers stroll arm in arm ignorant of onlookers
Smiling sweetly as their whispers are absorbed
All life happens on a sunny afternoon
As darkness descends the picture begins to fade
No one sees the lonely bandstand
The solitary figure once a focal point
The meeting of young and old
A place of music that influenced generations
With concerts for passers-by
Erected in Victorian times to promote well being
Now a forgotten icon
The symbol lovingly covered in appealing colours
While delicate framing housed orchestras of yesteryear
Becomes a dishevelled mess of peeling paint and broken wood
Floors of holes unable to accommodate the traffic of dancing feet
Promoting a look of sadness and loss
The solitary figure, a replica of the viewer.
InkSplinters 