Too Impossible to Name This Poem
Gaunt sallow faces
Sunken tear stained cheeks
Unseeing eyes
Bleeding lips that ceaselessly speak of goodness, ignoring a plea for life
At a time when all that was given was a sliver of a chance at living within death
Known only by a number
Where good memories haunt them, driving them mad
The bad ones, reaffirming truth.
Life never lasts.
And death, brings peace with it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2012
About this poem:
I just saw Sophie's Choice, or at least, most of it, and I'm a big fan of history and especially wars. The where, the why, the irony of it, and the struggle of survival during and after it's wake. I've also read Ann Franks' diary at least twice and am amazed at her tenacity. So, in dedication to those who survived, or didn't, in those camps during WW2, I wrote this, in thinking that the torture they were put through, well, death seems like the better option. At least, there would be peace.
Yep, a very dramatic poem.
Comments (2)
There is such tragedy behind the lines of ...a sliver of a chance at living within death... as we continue to wrestle with humanitiy's inhumanity.