Cape Karen
T'is a few weeks before Christmas and down in the Deep South
the former resident's remain scattered; living elsewhere ~ hand to mouth.
FEMA says they are broke now ~ and no money is there ~ to help them rebuild, or even make a repair.
One hundred days later they go back to find, the remains of the homes that they left far behind.
They find them filled top to bottom with mildew and mold; they know all they can do is bulldoze, and fold.
The levee remains broken, along with their hearts; their future has been left wanting, with flimsy stops and starts.
Meanwhile, we're fighting a very cruel war, in a land filled with strangers, and horrors and more.
We're busy rebuilding the country of Iraq, while our own folks go homeless ~ they can't find their way back.
Where are our leaders in this Land of the Free? Where is the aid for citizens like you and me?
We're known as the richest country in the world; yet our own people are left hanging, like a flag unfurled.
The aftermath of this disaster on American soil makes me so mad, I can feel my blood boil!
As I watched Mr. Bush step up to light The Tree, all I could think of were the people of the sea.
They wait and they wonder; they pray and they cope.
Why, Mr. Bush, are you giving them no hope?
