The holocaust


1. The holocaust poem


Together here we stand,

Forever and always hand in hand,

With nothing to call our own,

Is there any point of wishing to be home,

They make us wait for a sound, sign -

or a signal. As we come to a standstill, in this never ending line.


Crowds snake down the land,

Across the dry and earthly sand,

People from the North, South, East and West,

Yet all the same nevertheless,

Ordinary people like you or I,

About to say their last goodbyes,


Life used to be so calm,

But now we are in such harm,

As I want to do is run and hide,

With my best friends beside my side,

They would comfort me and make me feel,

like they cherished me a great deal.



Beyond the crowds, mother clutches her baby to her chest,

While father straightens his son's Sunday best,

Though looking smart does matter not,

As they know that they have not got,

a breath to say “we will be fine” , as there is no more,

But instead will have reached peace in Gods doors. 

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