Creative writing

First breath of air is good on this cold morning Warmth speeds away from these old sore bones Numbness and tingling is all we know now in these fingers Joints twisting around like they were traveling on water Hurts to walk but no one cares no more No free labor here labor all day till dark This business of cleaning is hard labor now No one tells you when your broke your broke First breath of air is good on this cold morning  

From open windows came ocean breezes Debris floating all around Front door turned upside down Couch sitting against the tattered boards Garbage strewn about like clouds in the sky Lifeless bodies facing down No sounds of birds no sounds at all Mother natures fury covers all traces of disdain