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Poetry: The Holocaust

by Carissa Johnson

Auschwitz

I watch the sky this hopeless night

The deepest black I’ve ever seen

The stars like pinpoints glitter bright

But the wafting smoke is all I see


The smoke, it rises from the camp

From bright flames fueled by corpses dead

The smoke, it rises to the lamp

Of the sky, the moon which haunts the dreadful shed


Where bodies burn, defiled and mauled

Shot and gassed and starved and beat

Murder! Murder! I cry, ripping my threadbare shawl

But they cannot hear as I rise to my feet


The smoke still rises from the camp

That hellhole filled with Mother’s screams

And my sister’s bony, scared face damp

My father praying it was all a dream


But praying, how it seems to fail

My God, oh God, where have you gone?

Abandoned voices rise in a wail

Pain and death now rise as one


Arise, ye suffering, hopeless Jews

Defy in your death that heartless beast

Who lives to destroy your right to choose

To live or die, you stand the least


And looking down, I see a shivering child

Skin and bones and threadbare cloth

And eyes with a soul, dejected and mild

His family gone, his heart now lost


I want to whisper to this child

Don’t worry, dear. All will be fine.

Time heals these wounds, just wait awhile.

But mama taught me not to lie.

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