A Holocaust poem. 

People walking in the dark night,
Hearing sounds of despair and fright
Children screaming, crying, alone.
Whose parents are there to claim?
To tell the child, I’m here I know your name

The bee captures the skin when it stings,
It encircles it, tortures it and it endures pain,
The skin is left defenseless, nowhere to hide
And soon it wishes it were still alive.
But parts of the skin were untouched,
They survived!

It’s been given a chance, a chance for a new life!
It lives on and on in the name of its ancestors.
But it never forgets, never neglects the horrific tale
The one where the Nazis did not prevail
Them, those Jews still live on
Their faith and their dreams never air max 2019 size

Share this post

Share on facebook
Share on google
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin
Share on pinterest
Share on print
Share on email

You May Also Like

Stay in Touch

Subscribe to stay up to date about our latest posts, writing competitions and Fresh Ink news

Close Menu