The Flood

This is a short conversational poem inspired by Hurricane Katrina.

                                                           9/5/05

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Who was left behind?

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-        Us.  The poorest.  The uninformed. 

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…..

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-        Those holding on to their homes.  To New Orleans.

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Why were they left behind?

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-        I don’t know.  Will you be quoting me " directly, that is?

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As much as I can.

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-        Will you send me a copy?

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You’ll be the first.  Even the children were left behind?

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-        Yes, even the children.

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And the mothers?  Where were their fathers?

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-        I tried to get my children out.  My husband, too.

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Could you keep them safe?

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-        No.  The hurricane stormed down on them.

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Why didn’t you stay inside?

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-        The flood washed inside away.

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Your kitchen too?

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-        Yes.  And the food in the kitchen.

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And the bathrooms?  The pipes?

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-        Yes, the pipes leaked into the flood.

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And your beds?

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-        We didn’t sleep.

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Where are your children now?

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       -        That’s difficult to say.

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Reviews

[Stephen]

Holy-Crap!

I haven't read anything like this before and this telling a story of millions of people across the world ..living. Surviving. Breathing...and leaving the life`s. This poem`s extremely emotional which expressing its sentiments through the words. You`ve so beautifully expressed the real-moments of life through the poem of emotions. This`s not just a poem but a pond of tears indeed where the readers find and learn the WORTH of their LIVES.

*Hats off*

[Tracey R]

Thank you :) It wasn't my story. I was just asking the questions.

[Chris]

Hell of a thing to ask but ...where DO they bury the survivors...

[TLK]

The last line is a killer.