A mountain of spectacles
as if a swarm of dangerous insects
staring back
at the spectators
seeing it all
through the distance
of glass
& Time.
A mound of shoes
with nowhere to walk to
forever.
Faces of the living
frozen in reflection.
Piles of hair
cut
never stroked or brushed
again for ever.
The display cases
trapping the Past
crystaling
Time
in an almost
artistic way.
And children today
think only
that
Auschwitz
is
a German brand
of beer or bread.
A most unreal period of history, for it is hard to believe one human could be that cruel to another...and the pictures you paint are painfully real...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you are such a sensitive person.....you show such empathy.....and surprised me with this poem...............you're a first for me! Ruthie: o)