Poor Sighet

They who believed, lost faith,

They who loved, gained hate,

They who joyed, now cry,

They now say only goodbyes.

They, who were to live, die

By the Angel of Death they lie.

Driven to the end,

There’s no time to make amends.

Buried along with regret,

The poor Jews of Sighet.

 

For them, I worry.

Their untold future, I well know,

Yet they predict nothing

With only optimism as their shield.

So I fear for them, knowingly.

If only they’ve known to flee.

And as their hopes and dreams begin to sway,

What do they see?Their doom has been set,

The poor Jews of Sighet

 

Stunned, I am and am still.

Humans, can they be so evil?

They who crushed an Angel,

Don’t they feel guilt or regret?

A bitter victory, a beginningless end,

Hopes, dreams shattered thoughtlessly.

Love withdraws in defeat,

Hate consumes, and overwhelms me.

Families, no longer families.

Unbelievably real is this nightmare.

For them, I fret.

The poor Jews of Sighet.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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