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Rated: E · Other · Emotional · #1377010
A poem inspired from a dream about the holocaust.
I’m standing there, again, in the train car- Germany, circa 1945
The Museum, full of memories, is normally bustling with tourists
But I am alone and I close my eyes, goosebumps racing each other up my neck.
The past encompasses me and I’m filled with the spirit
Of the people here so many years ago

Light, streaming through the cracks in the wall
Dapples the train car’s floor, either
From the world of the dream or the scenery pulled past
I am sitting in a corner with strangers
My hair, unwashed for weeks, covers my sooty face
And screams are heard from the orphaned brood

I finger the serial number on my left wrist that sent me to this place,
Given to me when I first took the train with empty promises of prosperity,
And splash it with silent tears for all of us
Children in an unjust world who only want love
Sentenced for our birth, sentenced to our death
Whispers tell where they are carting us off to

I see a boy wrapped in a moldy blanket
Staring into the void with immense eyes once blue as sapphires
They have lost their childhood vigor, been sapped of their color
He’s grown up too fast at seven years old, alone in the world, readied for death
I want to reach to him and give him my strength
So there is the smallest hope that he may survive

But here’s the nightmare:
I can’t.
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