Houses Stand Silent

by Annalise Torczon

age 12 

 
 
 
I went through the devastated parts of New Orleans and saw a lot of the houses. I just wrote what I saw. I went through these places at night, and there was a very depressed atmosphere to them.
 
Editor's Comments: in this lyric poem, Annalise paints a vivid picture of the destruction she witnessed in New Orleans.
 
 
 
The houses stand in silence and disrepair
Tombstones over the residents who once lived there
Levees exploding while they slept in their beds
Engulfed in a nightmare, buried alive, now dead

Wind whistles through open doors and windows
Cracked mud caked on floors and porches
Where children once played with their blocks and toy horses
Now black with mold, oil and disease
The stench burns my nose and eyes as I sneeze

A starving dog scrounging for a meal
Shriveled to bones, no master to heal
A lone bird sings, with no answer from its mate
An alligator impaled on an iron gate

Gone is the music drifting in the fog
No saxophone’s wailing, no steamboat horns hailing
All I hear now is desperation, forlorn people scattered all over the nation
We’re told to have hope, all will be well
In this barren wasteland, an empty shell.