April 23, 2011 in Features, News

Holocaust: To my children I will tell

Stories from the Holocaust
Randy Sylvester University High School
 

To my children I will tell

How my beginning was living hell

They will hear what I went through

And as a child what I was forced to do

I will tell them of a time

When those who ruled were not benign

And I will tell them in such a way

That they won’t quiver at what I say

But there is that which I will not tell them

For there is that which they should not hear

Not until their small ears are ready

Till they can know my story more clear

I will not tell them how I was taken away

And would not see my parents another day

I will not tell them of how I was to die

Because of the color of my hair, skin, and eye

I will not tell them of how I was tossed aside

With nobody I knew, nobody in whom I could confide

I will not tell them of how we were forced to work

Covered in mud, our own blood, and dirt

I will not tell them of how we all starved

Or of the images that in my mind are so deeply carved

I will not tell them of how I had to watch my friends die

In the ghettos where I lived and their bodies lie

No, they will not yet hear of the killing chambers

Where thousands of my people died surrounded by complete strangers

I will not tell them of the screaming and crying

And all the sounds of my loved ones burning and dying

I will not tell them of the mass graves

Of the pools of blood in which all the bodies bathed

I will not tell them of how the dead were thrown in piles

And how the rotting stench went on for miles

But I will tell them of how with what little we made

We could still sneak away to get food in a trade

Even though the task was so dangerous

And when we would return our numbers would continue to be less and less

Even if we could only get a bite

It would give us enough hope to last another night

And I will tell them of those whose own lives they risked

Those who sacrificed and those I so dearly miss

Those who gave everything just for me to safely hide

When the men came looking, they would keep me out of sight

And I will tell them of those who came and fought back

Against the ruthless and seemingly endless attack

Who helped me go back to the safety and comfort of home

Who made me feel no longer so alone

Those who held out their war torn hand

And escorted me back to my own land

I will tell them of all the men

Who let me safely live my life again

To my children I will tell

Of those I loved and those I lost

And to my children I will tell

Of the heroes of The Holocaust

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