The Storm Line
The storm comes up roaring with it's wind,
Hide for cover under the trees.
Watch the cars in the storm spin,
Run for help for the people how have needs.
Watch the storm tear through homes,
People separated by the storm.
The storm does not stop for domes,
The wreckage of the horrible storm.
Wood everywhere from houses in the path,
Watching the tornado spin out of control.
People summing up the deaths like math,
With the living people leading like the patrol.
Watch the funnel go down,
Soon you'll run for cover.
Soon the storm will head for the town,
No power lines to contact your mother.
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Comments about this poem (The Storm Line by Kasondra Sytnik )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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