Piers left in a broken-down state.
A glimpse of the past, of days once great.
Made from wood taken from trees.
Then taken down by the strength of the seas.
Once kept busy, bait for sale.
If only they used longer nails.
No more fish caught on the line.
The pier not standing the test of time.
A bridge thought built strong to last,
gone in a snap, way too fast.
Built with strength and meant to stay.
A structure now left to wither away.
Next time we’ll be better prepared.
Now the pier just left unrepaired.
We don’t always get what we intend.
Sometimes mistakes are never to mend.
Blown away in the wind, like a feather.
We learn from this, next time to be better.
But perhaps this was never meant to be,
Pointing outward into the sea.
