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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