She Was Anne

her name was Anne and she wrote dreams upon pages; the kind that roam around your mind but are always held deep inside your chest; and she heaved under the weight of tears left uncried and so many truths left unsung; her name was Anne not of Green Gables but of Gestapos and Gettos; not summer getaways but of guards and gates; she was Anne of raven hair with faraway eyes, on spindly legs running towards a woman's curves; but the hook of her nose told heritage tales, that they numbered with hate upon her youthful arm; yet she still dreamed and wrote, of longings and yearnings of the future; with simplistic thoughts not comprehending her reality; her pen flew across pages, filled with hope, yet inked in sadness; and the winds blew the sheets upon the prejudice that surrounded her; without effect she was Annie to parents who saw only the past of a little girl with shiny new shoes pink bows and capped teeth; the shoes went into piles, bows flew upon the breeze and the teeth shone only in fillings of melted gold instead of smiles; she was the promise of a woman's secrets, yet to be revealed and enjoyed, upon silken thighs; with desired weight pressing love upon waiting lips; she was humanity destroyed by inhumanity; as the world watched little girl tears float away, into subconsciousness, where we didn't have to feel them or hear their weeping moans; she was a star from the family of David; an outcast now from society that deemed her unworthy; outlined by the yellow blaze as the star burnt itself out; and she called to her God without blame for he was good and kind; and man... well man was man, so unlike her God; her name was Anne and she pressed her face upon the panes of our illusions; breaking through the shaded barriers that we ourselves had forged; but too late for Anne did we see the truths; and now she remains forever young in our minds; but dead to our world; and her pages are all that speak; her hushed whispers grown finally loud; we hear her voice and feel at last her tears, as they slide down those precious pages to become our own...