Holocaust
I walk alongCarrying the Holocaust
With me,
Wherever I go.
In my bag,
A book about the survivors,
A man they experimented on
And left with nothing,
Because he could never forget.
An article from a friend
Sent from New York,
From one Jew
To another,
Because we can't
Forget.
Tears well up
In my eyes,
Even though
It finished
In '45.
Because I can't forget.
My grandparents whom
I never met,
Are always
With me,
Clearly cross-referenced
On the list,
By those
Cold,
Efficient
Men
With typewriters,
Who never forgot.
Poetry by Esti D-G
Read 771 times
Written on 2005-10-11 at 12:25
Tags Holocaust  Sadness 
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