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Rated: E · Poetry · Tragedy · #2066716
Holocaust Poem.
We were taken.

Taken from our mother's arms.

Stolen from the comfort of our family.

Our house.

Our school.

Our friends.

My sister and I.



"At least we are still together"

I used to say.

We used to tell stories.

To laugh.

To hug.

To play.

My sister and I.



But it all changed.

It all changed.

They dragged her away.

Far away.

They tore us apart.

My sister and I.



I screamed.

I ran.

Till I saw her.

My sister.

A gun to her head.

Fear etched across her face.



I watched,

In horror.

As the trigger was pulled.

Her body stilled.

Her eyes, empty windows.

Still open.

Still filled with the suffering.

The terror.

The hopelessness.

That ruled her life.



A second gunshot rings through the air.

I fall.

Next to her.

The only person who still loved me.

The only person who still cared.

My mouth full of blood.

My body slowly dying.

Reunited once more.

My sister and I.








© Copyright 2015 Claire Groome (c.bear at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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