I used to tend to check the time on Big Ben, which appeared <br />If I peered, using binoculars not my own, weak oculars <br />Without any alchemy, from my eighteenth-floor balcony <br />But I’m now shocked they’ve built another soulless office-block <br />Blocking my view, knocking the thought of clocking <br />That clock face forever: they’ve severed that endeavour <br />By their clever schemery to obliterate our scenery <br />And decimate the greenery with meanery in their keen hurry <br />To raise their crazy megaliths as their hazy ego lifts <br />In not-too-wise, so-called progress to festoon the skies <br />It’s no surprise that right before my eyes, these bright guys <br />Have erected monstrosities with selected pomposity <br />In an effort to delet our view of London’s streets and spires. <br />They’ve conspired to higher their vision with derision <br />At the history and mystery of metropolitan vistas, see. <br />These architects need better specs through which to look and not run amuck <br />And save our capital’s skyline from fading from our eyeline. <br />Ditch your drawing; I’m imploring: our city’s pretty as it is.<br /><br />C Richard Miles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-have-they-done-to-my-view/
