Shimmering shards of shattered semblance

Beneath broken bottles, unwanted emblems

This mark of shame; scattered destruction

The cyclists, aware, swerving the obstruction;

Former bottles tossed, discarded and then some.



We are unneeded. Before this day

We were used, emptied, paid for, on display

Gave joy, and felt sorrow and now we lay wasted

On the croft, forgotten.



Pick a battle with our handlers so:

To you and your unforgivable hands we know

To decay, expenditure and ruin, with lost opportunity.

Broken faith in our use to your community

We no longer hold your golden ale, or darkest stout

On the croft, forgotten.