I was a wooden house
and you were a tornado
As such you did what
a tornado ought to naturally do
And how you come as fast
as you can certainly go
The wreckage left behind
I don't find half as beautiful

And this is not the way
that I intended it to be
But we must not forget
how exciting tornadoes can be
Tossing cars and uprooting trees
Without much wait you dissipated,
what a mess you left behind

I am some splintered boards,
I am the dust of broken remains
The trace of a foundation
suddenly been rearranged
Scattered around with bricks and broken glass-
all that's left of my frame
And I sit huddled in the corner with a flashlight