– John Green, Looking for Alaska
The hurricane was coming.
No more wondering, no more warning.
I began to work, an eye on the sky
my loose ends are bound with white twine
as horizontal drops begin to pound
the open front door in rain now blurry
the raging storm expresses all of it’s hate
all of my belongings strewn around there
I could have prevented this wind that blew,
had I stopped myself from loving you