Design: Architectural Narratives - My Story

 The Flooding of Broad Street

I slowly ripple down the length of Broad Street,

Submerging the paths of the people I meet,

The storm rolling in as I pave the way,

Shrills and cheers as boats come to rescue people from

my embrace,

When will this stop? The people say.

 

It's 1910 and I bitterly encase everything with no dismay.

 

 

 

Time has passed by and technology has twisted change,

The old winter storms are only a breeze these days,

Sea walls mocking me from having Broad Street again,

Remembering the times when I controlled the cityscape,

I torment the people, as I sit silently waiting for my next

moves.

 

It's 2021 and I barely see anyone at all.

 

 

 

I don’t know what the future entails,

Like the flip of a coin, I could be the ruler or fail,

The lands of Broad Street could be mine to take if the

effects of Climate change fall into place,

I hope for the future's sake the people win,

To make sure their sea defences don’t let me in.




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