poem-A tribute to tornado victims

Through out our cities,
And our small towns,
We lost so many victims,
To that siren sound,

That dark green sky,
The sound of that train,
Which begins with a watch,
Then a warning remains,

If you never been in their position,
And If it always passes you through,
It's easy for you to say,
It won't happen to you,
But on a dark fiery day,
the sound can suddenly get new,

A lot scarier,
Than you've ever heard before,
It can be the first time,
That it stands right outside
Your door,

The glass will be shattered,
Objects will be falling,
Cars will be flying inside the sky,
The darker it gets,
The more you will cry,

You will scream not today,
You can't die today,
You've always thought
You had more time,

You will think about the times,
You prepared for this before,
In schools you're taught to
get in hall ways,
And get on the floor,

And to cover your heads,
To protect from debris,
Close your eyes,
Just pray you can see,

An ending to the madness,
That is outside your door,
But those are drills,
This is real,

You can hear the freight,
Outside window pain,
Whooshing like waterfalls,
The howl of hurricanes,

beauitful young girls,
Ambitious young men,
Little babies,
And someone's best friend,

Are all looking around,
Like this could be the day,
As you hear it's destruction around your way,

You're cuddled up in a group,
But it feels like it calls your name,
The panic sets in,
When you hear the wheels of the train,

Coming off it's tracks,
Heading for your position,
With a tremendous roar,
With intent for affliction,

It happens so quickly
You're either dead or alive,
You never wanted to die,
But at that moment,
You stare in eyes,

You hold hands tight,
and recite the lord's prayer,
And you let nature take you,
To where you're supposed to be,
And you say those three words
As distressed as you may be,
If today is the day,
I just hope we will be free

Jason lamorris rivers Copyright ©2011