Come and join the camp
Don’t stumble over money, everything is free
Free of individuality
Free haircuts
Free striped pajamas
Free gold stars
A number defines who you are
Suffer through wind, ice, and snow
If you die no one will know
Horror unable to be depicted
Veins dripping their thick liquid
Silent drops of crimson wet the mud below
It won’t be long
Soon they’ll all be gone
Thanks to the devil with the moustache
Bob Harper’s Card Workout
11 years ago
Thanks to the devil with the striped pajama mustache... Reminds me of beatlejuice... except this is about concentration camps... so kinda...
ReplyDeleteThis makes me really appreciate all the freedom we have and how lucky we truly are.I feel like sometimes we lose sight of the true wealth we all have.. Thanks
ReplyDeleteThis is crazy good.
ReplyDeleteThis poem really made me think. When most people think of concentration camps we think about the obvious pain: hunger, separation from loved ones, fatigue. But on top of all that the victims also had to suffer from a loss of self, and a loss of individuality. They became faceless numbers. That must have been a potent way to kill their spirits. It was very insightful of you to be able to bring attention to an oft overlooked facet of their daily heartache.
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