| General Non-Fiction posted February 24, 2019 |
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the flood of 2005 in louisiana
Food for flood
by bournemouth
In 2005 in Louisiana
I was thinking in my mind
After the crossing of Katrina
Watching the channels
That I could find
And listening the expert panels
That there was no good
Since the starting of the flood
For all the inhabitants,
Modern immigrants.
The area was evacuated
And a dead zone located,
Except for the militaries and the rescuers.
Long time before, the first refugees
Had found shelters
Roundabout in the other counties,
And at the border boundaries
With some red-cross referees.
Nevertheless, floated the cadavers
Along the rivers
And the bayous
Sometimes stolen by some voyous,
And even if the mayor
Had a dignified behavior
We could say "Is it America
Or Africa?
Jesus, my savior."
Oh, if only I could be there
With my life-saving license
There would not have any offense
It would be mere.
In 2005 in Louisiana
I was thinking in my mind
After the crossing of Katrina
Watching the channels
That I could find
And listening the expert panels
That there was no good
Since the starting of the flood
For all the inhabitants,
Modern immigrants.
The area was evacuated
And a dead zone located,
Except for the militaries and the rescuers.
Long time before, the first refugees
Had found shelters
Roundabout in the other counties,
And at the border boundaries
With some red-cross referees.
Nevertheless, floated the cadavers
Along the rivers
And the bayous
Sometimes stolen by some voyous,
And even if the mayor
Had a dignified behavior
We could say "Is it America
Or Africa?
Jesus, my savior."
Oh, if only I could be there
With my life-saving license
There would not have any offense
It would be mere.
I was thinking in my mind
After the crossing of Katrina
Watching the channels
That I could find
And listening the expert panels
That there was no good
Since the starting of the flood
For all the inhabitants,
Modern immigrants.
The area was evacuated
And a dead zone located,
Except for the militaries and the rescuers.
Long time before, the first refugees
Had found shelters
Roundabout in the other counties,
And at the border boundaries
With some red-cross referees.
Nevertheless, floated the cadavers
Along the rivers
And the bayous
Sometimes stolen by some voyous,
And even if the mayor
Had a dignified behavior
We could say "Is it America
Or Africa?
Jesus, my savior."
Oh, if only I could be there
With my life-saving license
There would not have any offense
It would be mere.
I was watching television to see the aftermath of the huricane Katrina and I thought that the flood had devastated this part of America that once belonged to France and where we could find French speaking people.
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