Anne Franks Diary Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A girl named Anne, with eyes so bright,
Got a diary, a special light.
On her thirteenth birthday, a gift so new,
She wrote to Kitty, honest and true.

World War Two, a time of fright,
Nazis hunting, day and night.
Anne and her family, a secret place they found,
In an annex hidden, on Amsterdam ground.

For two long years, they lived unseen,
With darkness around, a worried scene.
Blackout curtains, whispers low,
Always fearing, where they might go.

She wrote of fights, a teen's new bloom,
Love for Peter, dispelling gloom.
Of parents' worries, a mother's plea,
Growing up fast, wild and free.

Despite the fear, the hate, the pain,
Hope bloomed like flowers after rain.
Love for nature, the sky so vast,
And words she wrote, meant to last.

But then one day, a sudden sound,
German boots upon the ground.
The secret broke, the hiding done,
To camps they went, beneath the sun.

Anne, so young, her story told,
In Bergen-Belsen, brave and bold.
Died of sickness, a life cut short,
Just fifteen years, a tragic sport.

Her father lived, with sorrow deep,
And Anne's own words, he vowed to keep.
He shared her diary, for all to see,
A message of hope, for you and me.