Katrina Poem by Joe Fraccalvieri

Who will finally mourn for them?
when there's no one left to weep
Who will tuck them into bed?
when we've fallen, fast… Asleep

And who will hold them dearly? ...
To give them comfort in their hour of need
Who will free them from this hell?
when our leaders will no longer lead

The storm has passed... The first become last
No promises are theirs to keep...
So who will care for our children?
when it's the wolves who shepherd the sheep

Who will shelter the orphaned?
when they're homeless-- no shoes on their feet
Who will clothe the ones who are bare?
when they're shivering, there, on the street
And who will feed the little ones? --
nieces, nephews... daughters… sons
when they haven't any food to eat

Who will answer their pleading?
when the golden rule is litter--
replaced by the glitter of greed
And who will stop the bleeding?
before they've bled all the blood they can bleed

I only ask-- not a simple task
when you're part of the broken heap...
Left behind, for the living to find,
from the waters which continue to seep

But among the rest, I am truly blessed,
for the knowledge that I reap...
That I will be found, on solid ground,
where the Kudzu vine does creep

And I cry for those children
who lie waiting-- alone...
They don't make a sound-- not a peep!

And at the end of time,
when the righteous are crowned,
we'll remember the names
of all who have drowned...
To the heavens they stretch-- so tall-- so steep,
as the soul of each child is glory-bound
and the ocean surrenders her own
from the deep....