For the Love of Rialto

As tourists throng, with cameras held high,

Oblivious to beauty in their quest for fame,

A bridge that stood through centuries, the same,

Yet now a stage for egos passing by.

The Rialto, once a symbol of the past,

Now groans beneath the weight of modern taste,

As people rush to post in frantic haste,

Unmindful of its elegance steadfast.

Oh, noble bridge, built of white Istrian stone,

Enduring ages, now home to Hard Rock,

Yet still, you stand, by fame and folly stirred,

As selfies reign and beauty stands alone.

At dawn, when sunlight paints the Grand Canal,

Ere selfie sticks emerge like swords of old,

The Rialto’s charm, in quiet beauty, told,

For morning’s grace outshines the social thrall.