Theresienstadt: The Land Of Plenty Poem by Sheena Blackhall

I am Ilona. I am 9 years old
My neighbours harvest weeds and grass to boil
It tastes like spinach. Mother says
If horses eat it, I can eat it too

Valie stole three potatoes, and was thrashed
The SS guard gave orders:
‘Beat her to death, to teach the rest a lesson, ’

But Valie didn’t die. Now, she’s a hunchback
Crippled and twisted. Did the food taste good?

I am drawing The Land of Plenty, entrance fee one crown
I am drawing myself on a bench, with a bird on a fork
Mmmmmm…I can smell the roast-flesh in my nose

There are bottles of rum and punch to keep the cold out
And a hedgehog….every spine’s impaled with fruit!

And look! Here comes a little child-angel
Carrying a basket of hard boiled eggs!