Flooding waters came as the rain fell on my tent.
It happened so fast I was not able to get out.
Surrounded by water, I watch my friend dig a trench.
I feel so powerlessness it fills me with doubt.

Wondering what I am doing back here in the riverbed.
Before the rain I was happy to have a home and felt good.
It's morning now and I'm grateful I'm not dead.
What was beauty is now ugly, barren, wet, crude.

I wonder if the rain is done with it's showers of despair.
This storm took more from me than material things.
My desperate spirit is also in need of repair.
Time to get up and see what another homeless day brings.