Holocaust Poem by Jackie Thielman

As I’m thrown to the ground
The priceless air looms are
Ripped from my neck
The imprint of the chains
Now on my skin

They striped my body
Of the only clothing I have
And I’m given a pile of
Use smelly stained up clothes
Marked with the symbol I am

My name is on arm that
will stay for the rest of my young life
this is my new name
it dose not contain
anything but numbers

I’m sent to work
Yet I’m so weak
I can’t ever lift the hoe
I’m grabbed by the man
And shoved in a room

I hear a “click”
Then a a white thick
Smog like thing comes from
The holes in the wall

It is getting harder
And harder to breathe
I become light headed
As I fall to the floor
I gasp my last bit of air
For I did not make it
from the Holocaust
Poem Writer,
By: Jackie Thielman