–Oh, here you have it, another attempt at momof3isnuts poetry–or are they fractured thoughts?
On the horizon a storm is brewing.
Clouds blackening, filling with fury.
Take shelter, prepare.
The storm is evasive
Defenses are weakened
Behind, the storm lets loose its fury
With breath taking force.
Scouring through the debris
A worthy person inside.
A new dawn.