Seaside Insanity Poem by Angela Wybrow

The coloured pedalos,
And the puppet show,
Are no longer in sight,
For the visitors’ delight;
The lido has closed;
Beach-huts got bulldozed.
All the fun of the fair
Is now no longer there;
There was a cosy café -
Now a takeaway;
And once there stood,
A pier built of wood,
Where people would stroll,
After paying a toll;
Fond memories fade
Of the penny arcade,
Where now there are flats –
There’s no turning back;
No attractions are left,
And the Prom is bereft;
There are benches for bums,
And seagulls crave crumbs.
But the sand and the sea
Will always be free –
They’ll both soldier on,
And will never be gone:
For some, they’re enough,
But these times are tough;
People will go other places,
With their designer suitcases.
Is this what they call progress,
Or is it all just an awful mess?