🌀 Pre Hurricane Milton 🌀 Poem by James McLain

The winds came down hard, smashing through St. Pete and Tampa like they owned the place.

Hurricane Milton, what a bastard. Storm surge rolled in, drowning streets, homes, lives.

Power's out, stores shuttered.
The air reeks of desperation.
People of color, as always, bear the brunt—forgotten and left to fend in the debris.

Looters crawl from the cracks, but can you blame them?
The system's been looting them for years.
This place won't be the same for a long, long while.