Sun, 09/07/2014 - 15:41 -- akrode

Six months it has been

I’ve been counting the days

Since the night when they came

And took us away


One way went my mother

The other my dad

All that was left was my brother

He was all that I had


Yelling and crashing and shoving and booms

Screaming and crying and heartache and wounds

No hope anymore, no attempts to escape

Couldn’t help but wonder

Why this was our fate


Hatred, despise, loathing, disgust

Mutual feelings between he and us

If there is someone to blame it’s the man with the stache

We should not suffer his hatred and wrath


My brother is gone; I’m all I’ve got now

With my faith and my pride

And the strength of my brow

I’ll make it I swear

There is no choice left

But to persevere, to stay strong

For the sake of the rest


The labor is hard, the hours are long

People are dying, but still we go on

Bodies are strewn - some still alive

Hearts barely beating, praying to die

The camps are horrendous

Immoral and sick

But to witness this death

Will haunt me as long as I live


Our aid will come

The answer to our prayers

No matter the torture they expect us to bear

The suffering will end

The pain will subside

And the nightmares will end

When it’s our turn to die





This poem is about the Halocaust and the effect it had on the innocent lives involved. Having had a family friend be a surviver of such attrocities, it makes the horror all but more real. I am a strong beliver in not dwelling on the past, I feel that it only sickens the mind, body and spirit. And though this event has become a mere page in our history books now, and the scars all but healed, I belive it should not be forgotten. It's difficult to think about, sometimes it's easier not to think of it at all, but despite this, no one should ever forget. 

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