Tale of An Ex-Detainee

We'd rather put up with the ordeal Isn't exile a pride? You cannot judge us, But merely respect us. However much we forgive, We cannot find consolation Every day, we relive what happened. Every day. We still smell the stench of them They came back many times Each time, they... Accused. Humiliated. Taunted. Tortured. And our innocence was drowned They should have killed us. It's a miracle they didn't. You know, a dungeon... At first, you're like a child Holding your fellow detainee's hand, Feeling safe. Then a time comes... And it always comes When your fellow detainee lets go. You're lost, Alone in the dark. You cry out, but no one answers. We struggled to survive Deprived of adequate sustenance Denied of grave and bed Backbreaking days In the sun and rain And in those moments of deep despair We had understood the meaning of Auschwitz. As if our pain could have no ending We keep dreaming... After the release, We'll go to find our families, Wherever they may be. We keep thinking about them But can't tell anyone.