Too Little, Too Late

a poem by tobias kerins, UK

A drowned city, submerged in water
Many a person, death by slaughter
The sad and sorry story of New Orleans
Claimed many a life from the old to the teens

Hurricane Katrina, the menace of this city
Did pour on people pure scorn, no pity
With a ferocious bite, with speed and haste
Obliterated her path, left nothing to waste

So the city that was built at the bottom of a basin
In the deepest south of the richest nation
Had they prepared for this awesome might
Strengthened defences, made easier their plight

In the tragic aftermath, the answer is no
Unable to stop of the water the flow
Houses destroyed and car turns to boat
On makeshift rafts, people do float

Seeking their chance, the looters emerge
Searching out bounties, on high ground converge
The Home Guard appear, bring order is their will
Do they adopt the policy, of shoot to kill

People take refuge in the large Superdome
Distressed, others on the street did roam
Women are raped and fighting takes place
The rescue operation needs to pick up pace

The spread of disease becomes a major concern
As sewage overflowed and explosions did burn
The lack of drinking water in this awful mire
Dehydration sets in and people tire

Hysteria came too, where was the aid
Mosquitoes bore down as hope did fade
The richest nation could not their people save
Solemn and disaster, incredibly grave

The President emerged in this desolate state
Many remarked too little, too late
Why so long, how did it take so much time
For rescue to arrive, America's prime

Questions will be asked for many years to come
Especially by those who lost a loved one
Joan of Arc would have cried at these scenes
As she prayed for her city, the Maid of Orleans

Every Day's A Dark Night
The Maltese Falcon Vol I
Victorian London: The Pea-Souper

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