This is the second poem she wrote for her Holocaust poem The Streets of the Ghetto Trudging children engulfed by their families, The street crowded by raging calamity. Bones protruding from weak fragile skin, Their hope for their lives growing fatally thin. One said, “They’re sure to take us a place better than this.” “Shut up Juden!” An SS Officer hissed. A boy draped in grey began to shed tears, And a woman in rags was consumed by her fears. They all came to realize, their belongings needn’t be kept, For even that day, the devil silently wept. This is the third poem she wrote I Haven’t Survived “You’re going to live!” the doctors exclaim, Yet it is not my body, but my heart that’s in pain. I sit there, inaudibly, in silence, As my mind flashes back to torturous violence. Images of men being beaten, and women getting silently murdered, Accompanied by the laughter and chatter of officers murmurs. Sobbing and sniveling, they all said their farewells, Knowing gruesome death is what their future would foretell. Somehow I was lucky, escaping the inferno, But of those who didn’t, their suffering eternal.
Posted on: Wed, 09 Jul 2014 06:04:35 +0000
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