I wrote this poem about the Holocaust after visiting the Auschwitz Death Camp in Poland |
There was a time I had a cherry red coat With a velvet collar that tickled my throat. And fur-lined boots of the finest leather To keep me warm in winter's weather. There was a time a grand house was home And through the flowers, I liked to roam. And on the manicured lawn I would lay With my school friends who had come to play. There was a time I had a big brass bed With soft feather pillows to cushion my head. And under a downy quilt, I soundly slept As angels on their tiptoes crept. There was a time I did well at school When my future shone like a brilliant jewel. Mama and Papa took my brother and me On summer vacations for two weeks or three. There was a time I laughed and danced Boys from the town were quite entranced By my elegant gowns of silk and lace And golden curls that framed my face. There was a time I had nothing to fear No ghouls or ghosts ever came near Sitting upright at the baby grand I played the keys with a delicate hand. There was a time I sat down for a meal Of new potatoes and crisp roast veal Mama watched making sure that I ate Encouraging me to finish my plate. There was a time I sat and spied Papa telling Mama that we must go hide She wept as he pleaded in a broken voice Be brave my darling. We have no choice. There was a time I packed a small case And ran with my parents to a hiding place In a cold damp cellar far below the ground We huddled and prayed, not to be found. There was a time I heard the hounds bark Just above my head down in the dark Thunderous footsteps followed the scent As Hitler's disciples made their descent. There was a time I wore a yellow cloth star Branding me guilty for what we are The fate hung heavy over the Jewish race Etched lines of anguish on Papa's kind face. There was a time the cane delivered its lash They stole our belongings, our silver and cash The synagogue that stood proud in the town Was wrecked and robbed, burnt to the ground There was a time I saw my brave Papa refuse To bow to the Fuhrer, slaughterer of Jews "Never," he hissed, at the image, he spat But a fist to his face knocked him down flat. There was a time we boarded a train Never to see darling Papa again Holding on to Mama and my brother for life We heard Papa beg for his children and wife. There was a time they shaved my hair Took my clothes and made me stand bare They scorched a serial number into my arm Mama through tears urged me to stay calm. There was a time fleas bit me to chunks At night when I wretchedly lay on the bunks Listening to groans of those so taunted As the reality of my nightmare haunted. There was a time Mama went to the shower I waited for her for more than an hour. As black smoke funnelled its way to the sky I knew she had been sent in there to die. There was a time I cried a hot river of tears Alone amongst masses, I realised my fears Made to sift through the dead ones' things For diamonds and gold, I saw Mama's rings. There was a time I hated more than I loved Despising the pigs who callously shoved A tangle of bodies into shallow mass graves Upstanding once - and now lifeless slaves. There was a time I looked for my brother I searched scrawny faces one after the other Realising that he too was cruelly gone I hardened my heart and just plodded on. There was a time I would kill for some bread Then changed my mind and wished myself dead But I woke up each day clinging to life Though each bodily sinew cut like a knife. There was a time I refused to pray To a God that treated Jews this way I shook my fist up towards the sky And asked over and over, "why, why, why?" There was a time I felt only numb Too feeble to fight whatever would come The strength to smile I would not regain Knowing that Mama and Papa were slain. There was a time I thought would not arrive When a young Russian soldier rescued me alive I drank from the tears that fell from his face As he lifted me out of that horrendous place. Tricia Schwitzer |