Shower Poem by Sana Olivia Hernandez

Shower



My grief is dirt of the darkest filth,
My sadness is blood from my heart that's spilt.
My anger is sunburn,
Painful to the touch.

I stand under the water.
Hoping for relief.
Relief from my sadness,
My anger and my grief.

Outside of this shower,
Is filth of the highest grade.
Crimes and wrongdoings.
All in deeper shades.

All through our cruel history,
From pointless wars to the Holocaust.
The filth of the world has built up.
Our clean, pure hearts it's cost.

In despair and outrage,
I violently scrub it off.
I scrub away the hurt.
I scrub until I'm soft.

A temporary fix,
I know.
As the hurt and dirt I wash.
As soon as I'm out; filth will cling to me,
And never let me go.

With sticky thievery,
Greasy assault,
And thick, black murder,
It's hard to stay clean,
In the shower it seems.
I'd like to stay forever.

Trying to clean the outside,
While trying to stay clean inside,
Is a very hard thing to do.
If you try to clean than watch that dirt!
Don't let too much of it get on you.

If you don't care, either way.
And don't stand in the shower,
Or the rain.
Watch your heart.
Or it'll get stained.
You can't clean your soul.
So the stain shall remain.

I dry myself off,
I am clean once more.
But not for very long.
For I stepped in some gore...

-SOH

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I wrote this after watching 'The Boy in The Striped Pajamas'. I titled it 'Shower' and gave it that theme because of what the boys were told before they were killed in a gas chamber... that they were just taking a shower.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Daniel Brick 29 May 2014

I already wrote comments on this poem but had to put them in MESSAGE TO POET section because the codes weren't working at the time. Just now when I clicked on the title SHOWER I had forgotten the reference and assumed it meant a rain shower, in other words I thought I was going to read a Nature poem! How different this poem is from one describing the everyday events of Mother Nature. In this poem you confront one of humanity's worst events, one that as the film shows still haunts us with its nightmare reality. Your poem is bold, stark, necessary. For all the innocents who were cruelly murdered by war, your poem remembers them, and that is like giving them a share of the life that was taken from them.

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