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The Flood

A poem written from the perspective of a man caught in the middle of a flash flood.

The clouds have dispensed its heavy pour
Water is filling up the dining room 
Feeling soaked knee high from the wooden floor 
With the thunder sounding its deafening boom.

I witness my photographs wash away
Memories consumed by nature's aggressive wrath 
Losing the album from my wedding day 
As ink runs into the rain created bath.

I foolishly open the kitchen windows
Crashing my way to the top floor after my stupidity 
Now forced upstairs as the hallway flows 
However if I don't escape I will be engulfed by the drink surrounding me.

Then the bedroom I seek refuge in, shall be my grave.

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