Friday Poetry (2 for 1, part 1)

Faces

All those shades of beautiful faces.
The census tells us the faces are mostly brown.
And poor.

Some weren't poor, but now they are.
What they had, washed away.

Some are the richest ever -
They've found and been found.

Some are poor in ways money can't replace -
They've lost and they won't find.

But they will continue.
Far away, in a place never visited,
Probably never imagined.
A place with no ocean, no lakes, no Hurricane.
Maybe these new faces will bring jazz
To this unimagined, unvisited,
Welcoming place.