1945

A poem about a man after the holocaust and world war two is over.

Everyone i knew was gone.

dead,

lost.

I had noone.

I was nineteen and alone.

I had no family,

no friends,

no place to live,

no belongings.

 

The man in charged killed himself.

The americans set us free.

But we had nothing.

What is the joy of freedom if you have noone to spend it with?

 

My numbers tattooed into my skin.

My ribs.

My bludging eyes.

I saw a picture of me from my youth.

I was so young and full.

Now as i looked at my self,

I was aged.

My hair was white and whisped.

 

I stayed in the hospital,

and left to England,

where i could find a job.

I found a job,

and meet the girl that could warm the cold dead parts of my heart.

 

Her Brother had died in France.

My family died.

We asked ourselfs eachday,

Why didn't this end earlier?

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Aliza]

this is beatiful...sad and beautiful at the same time