When the storm rolls through
Screaming for attention,
Shoving away everyone and everything in its path,
It does not like to be forgotten
When it has so much to do
In so little time.
It wants you to notice it,
So it does only what it knows:
Destruction...
Harm...
To all it passes by.
It tears the arms from your friends who are rooted
To the same place they were the last time,
So that they will remember
So that you will remember
The next time;
When their cousin
Their sister
Their Mother
Their Friend
Comes,
Demanding the same attention
But with a new extreme
That is all theirs
So that the people on the news
The people who tell their tale
Will not confuse them
With those who have already come and gone.
For they will always come
And when they do
All they ask is that you be prepared,
So that they can live on
In words all your own.
