Chapter 4: Found Poems
“When will it end?”
Refusing was not an option
Or the oppressor will seek revenge.
As Father was marching
He was hit, slapped
When he wasn’t in step.
I tried to help him
With his marching
We were teased,
Taunted by other inmates,
But we just overlooked their comments.
But didn’t get anywhere.
The oppressor beat him, taunted him,
Called him names,
Then beat him again.
It hurt me to watch him and do nothing,
But there was nothing I could do.
I had to stay quiet,
Or I would get beat too,
Or worse... killed.
This nightmare is becoming worse and worse.
When will it end?
Chapter 8: Eulogy
My father was a great man and it just hurts that he died the way he did. My father and I didn’t have a great relationship before the Holocaust. We didn’t fight or argue, or anything. But he had a hard time showing his feelings, even in front of his own family. He seemed to care about other people’s needs instead of our own. He was sometimes the eyes and ears of our community. So was it neglect I felt at the time? Maybe. I don’t know. But I later realized why he was so helpful. When we were kicked out of our homes and started working at the camps, I was determined to make sure that my father and I stayed together. He was so sad that I didn’t go with my mother when we were separated by gender, because he didn’t want to see his only son get tortured. That’s when I realized that he really did care about me.
My father and I worked side by side doing hard labor. In the beginning I was afraid of asking the SS guards to keep my father and me together. When my father felt like giving up, I always pushed him to try harder, and he always tried. Years later, my father started to get really sick; he got older and weaker. I always gave him my food and water. I think I was in denial that my father was dying right before my eyes. I sometimes thought of giving up myself, but I knew I had to keep trying for him. When he died, I...
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