October 26, 2011
By Anonymous

As we pulled up to our house I let out a sigh of relief.
That our house still stood,
But there was still damage.
I got out of the car silently slamming the door.

I slowly walked to a piece of my bed frame
That had been ripped out of my room.
I bent down and stared at my great grandfathers craftsmanship,
The wind whipped silently past my ears as I stood up.

I walked up to my bedroom on the top floor and looked out,
Toward the road,
And that’s when it hit me.
Because wasn't’t staring out the window,
But I was staring out a huge hole in my wall;
As I looked out toward the road the hot tears started to slowly fall,
From my cold face.
As the wind whistled through the room,
I slowly realized that my room was the only one that received major,

And that all the stuff in the front yard was mine.
All my memories were scattered. Some,
I would recover,
Some were lost in the whirling wind.

I silently walked down the creaky old steps out toward the car
My mom was saying that we could get it all back
But I didn’t believe her.

I looked out at the yard and pointed
All the stuff I can get back is the stuff out in the yard.
But even that stuff was ripped and torn.
Everything I held, everything I cherished in my twelve years in this house,
Would be gone.

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