A Piece of Paper

This crumpled piece of paper. Has no words or pictures on its face But there are memories of fears And my eyes fill with tears. Crumpled paper with specks of blood A torn off corner, smears of mud That’s all I have to remember you. That’s all I have, of the friend I knew. Every crease, every fold Holds a story that must be told Of cruelty, of friendship rich Of hideous times at Auschwitz Each mark, a memory of you Condemned to Auschwitz, because you were a Jew. The horror of that camp cannot be explained Nor can my sorrow be contained. Body wasted, skin and bone Family murdered, all alone. How I loved you as a friend How I mourned you life’s end. A piece of paper was all you had Your sole possession, in a world gone mad. An unwritten letter, youth still furled Unpenned dreams of a better world. Russian guns were near, to set us free. Tomorrow, there would be no more misery. Yet, tonight the Nazis came, and took you away, Never to see another day. Why? Oh why did they murder still? There was no reason for them to kill. Their war was lost, they had not won. Why did the killing still go on? That fateful night, an assembly call For you to go to the transit hall To be marched away, in single file To cyanide death, to murder vile. A last hug. You body shook As I took The crumpled paper from your hand. Your final gift in this sad land. That crumpled paper from your trembling hand I know, somehow, you will understand It lifts your spirit, it sets it free You’ll live forever in memory.