Author's Note: I had a blast writing about a real place with a fictional twist.
Beneath the city of New Orleans,
At the mouth of the Mississippi,
Lies a connection of tunnels
Beneath its cobblestone streets.
They are rough and rocky,
Dark, damp, and scary.
They run for many miles
and are full of possibilities.
They can lead you to the bayou,
To the river, or the street.
Even to the graveyards,
Where the dead sleep.
At night they're used by thieves,
And tourists by day.
The underpass, is a chilling place to stay.
Snakes and rats like to play
In that dirty, damp place.
It's a tourist attraction,
A destination for the weak.
It's full of many secrets
That have never seen the sun.
So they will lie covered
In the deepest pits of mud.
Tales of hidden treasure,
Concealed by robbers
Who never made it out alive.
Are stories for the fools.
A passage way for slaves
Who fled from their masters.
The tunnels were a path
Of liberty and freedom.
Murders old as time, took place
in the deepest depths within.
Seen not by any law,
Only crawling beasts that knew not sin.
The stories such as these
The walls of the tunnels tell
Yet none can understand them
So, they rot away in hell.
Beneath the cobblestone streets,
Of historic New Orleans,
Lies a chain of tunnels
And events never seen.
Ruled by the thieves at night,
And the tour guides by day.
A tourist destination,
A place we shouldn't stay.
written by Evelyn Creon
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