In response to the people who refuse to acknowledge the holocaust happened.
I can’t believe you would think such a thing. Let alone have the audacity to utter them.
” The holocaust wasn’t real. ”
Are you out of your damned mind!
How dare you spit on the lives of millions!
How dare you deny their anguished cries!
How can you discount the lives of 11 million people and scorn the remaining 3.6million! 900,000 jews out of 6 million were left!
How can you believe it’s a hoax on the notion that if this had happened; Where is the uprising? Aren’t they angry, why have so little of them spoken out?
I ask you. Had you seen a newborn burned alive would you be able to tell anyone without the child’s screaming plaguing your mind?
The countless days spent fleeing the embrace of sleep, knowing all to well soon the images of your own children’s splattered brains on the very same pavement they had once biked on. Would you be able to swallow that, like they do?
Hiding under piles of sheets become something of the norm. The muggy fog and murky ground is the true monstrosity. Mothers remains thrown into the flames by the same boys they had raised. Could you do the same?
Would you pledge to a country promising freedom when freedom was a broken song that you couldn’t sing?
Take heed in these words if you have nothing good to say, just don’t speak!
Why can’t I fly?
Do I not deserve to feel freedom physically rather than it being a small ruined faint thought in the back of my mind.
Why must you keep me inside this cell?
I am no criminal I swear by it. Does my word not have the same worth as yours? Yes, I know I’ve stolen that apple but, I haven’t eaten in days.
What have I done to be put in such a harsh position?
You won’t let me near your children though I am a child myself. Do I not deserve friends? Yes, I am quiet and rarely speak but, I am afraid the smallest of a whisper is all it’ll take for you to abandon me.
Why? What have I done?
Why must I do tricks like a dog to get some sort of attention? Why must my leg, arm, or something to that nature be missing for you to recognize me as a human being?
Why must you look at me with such anger when I act out after years of keeping it all in? What advice do you have to give? Do you know what its like to miss a meal, never receive a Christmas present, or watch your sister move away somewhere with a complete stranger?
It didn’t matter how much I begged them not to take her did it? Though they know she was the very last thing I had and I for her the same.
It doesn’t matter, never has.
As I sit in the rain watching the small droplets fall away from the dark clouds onto the old dimly lit, roof sunken in the orphanage. I wonder…
When my feet grow tired of dancing, will I be able to get back up again?