Less We Forget! |
It seems quite natural now, these feelings and annihilation
As I look at the barrier, like razor wire between us
The man in grey a fascist still marching with jack boots
Hands me a dirty bowl with dirty fingers - pure water!
It is a cycle, a routine even of the contradictions here...
A race against another more extremist, more Aryan
Whose axes fall across the land which they fill with blood
There is no freedom within this Camelot the jousting has ended
The hearts and souls of the vanquished are only a white smog now!
Drifting to the Elysian Fields for unification with their loved ones
I as the author of this poem, write from my crammed bed
Will I liver another day? I pray to God Almighty he may let me
In him I belief I will come through this hell on earth, this cesspit of death
I pray that if my life be taken then my words may bring joy and - remembrances
to the many that I've seen die here.
Concentration Camp 1943
Written By B. R. Walker
Copywriter UK 2011
Less We Forget!
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