August 29, 2005 was a glorious day for New Orleans. 

My white, picket fence home once stood there. 

Now it is quite a scare.

The damages have taken a mental and physical toll on my family.

All I am left with are these images in my head.

All I am left with is this broken bunk bead.

My home looks like a garbage dump. 

Where the kitchen was, there is a large metal clump.

But dealing with a lost is not easy,

The sight makes me queasy

This is not going to be cheap, 

the thought haunts me in my sleep.

We were at risk until the Red Cross came. 

They were here to tame, 

the damage that had been done by the strong wind.

But that has now been left behind. 

Since the FEMA granted my family money,

the dark world, for once seemed sunny.

In the cleared lot, I stood.

I hope to be safe for good.