Swoosh,

I see the roof fly,

I hear the crows cry,

I feel the cold rain on my skin.

So dry,

And hot.

Down south!

The weatherman yells.

So much rain,

It filled up the drains,

And filled all the wells,

But no one can stop it,

There's just no telling,

When it starts hurricanning.

Down south,

Not Tampa,

Closer,

But still far from Louisiana,

Down south the farthest you can go.

The rain stares at the people,

And the people right back.

They watch as it hits,

from their little penthouses and tents in the sand.

The weather states,

Stay safe!

As the hurricane hits the coast of the state,

Shaped like a dagger stabbing the hurricanes back.

The hurricane waves at the people in their automobiles,

Its euphoric to meet all its friends,

And catches them in its cold embrace.

Not seeing them,

It turns around,

And the glee that it once felt was drowned,

The peaceful land that it had known,

Was turned gray and full of gloom.

The people rejoiced to see it leaving,

But the hurricane cried so much it dissolved completely,

And the weatherman said it's gone for now,

But it'll be back in Texas next hurricane season.