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Victoria Thunberg Poem
Hello there, what is your name?
Do you like to play games?
What do you do for fun?
Play checkers, maybe run, Or dance, or just play?
I can’t remember a day.
Where I could run and play.
I don’t even remember my last meal.
Just rotten scraps and potato peels.
I don’t even know my name.
It really is a shame.
I’m just these digits.
That were painfully stitched,
Into my small arm.
I was born into a world of harm,
Pure insanity.
From which I couldn’t flee.
Mommy said it was because we were Jews you see.
And for some reason the Germans hated us,
All those soldiers did was beat and yell at us.
Then one day.
They took mommy away.
I looked for her.
Longed for her.
She was my only friend.
Then a soldier showed me her end.
One day when the smoke drifted by.
In the unbearable heat, of the unforgiving sky.
The stench was awful.
As it filled and swelled my small nostrils.
It smelled more than the corpses did.
All grimy and gross, as some of us slid
Them into the fire.
Their ashes flew up, higher… and higher,
Along with my mother they were free…Forever….
She was gone, forever….
The one I needed more than ever.
Now I, had to be clever.
I had to be smart.
To survive became an art.
A skill….
Some of us stole, some would kill.
For extra clothes, an extra meal,
No one should experience the pain we feel.
That we felt.
But we dealt,
With what we were given,
As we looked to our Ha’Shem in Heaven.
But the eight year old girl that you see,
Yes this is me.
Stripped naked from head to toe,
All my bones show,
Through my thin
Pale, unhealthy skin.
I’m horrible to look at I know.
But what I resemble, what I show.
Is what happens when certain people,
Become irrational, their ideas unreal.
All because of hate, and hate alone,
You are shown,
What no one wants to see.
The result of hatred, and the result is me
Copyright © Victoria Thunberg | Year Posted 2012
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Victoria Thunberg Poem
I have one simple question for you.
If you could, would you walk in my shoes?
For one minute, hour, day, month, or year?
But you can’t I fear.
Even if you wanted to, or I made you.
I’m afraid that request will never come true.
All I can do is explain.
And hope you don’t think it’s a lie…or in vain.
But here, I’ll try to explain.
Every day I see mostly blur.
Walk around totally unsure.
Of where things are around me.
Yes I can see.
The flowers, the trees.
I am blessed, and grateful.
I remain faithful.
But the depth, the distance isn’t there.
No matter how much I squint or stare.
But I do what I can, and get by.
No matter what I always try.
But this is just a part.
A start.
Of what I go through.
All I can do is tell you.
I can’t show you.
Or cause you.
To go through it.
So you have to take my word for it.
Every day I wake up.
Most days I feel messed up.
I walk around in a haze.
As if I’m trying to get through a maze.
My head, my leg, is always in pain.
Most people would go insane.
But I deal with it.
I get through it.
The medicine only makes me sicker.
Instead of healing me quicker.
With epilepsy.
You see.
There is always a risk of dying.
But I push on, keep trying.
I keep a smile on my face.
But it gets erased.
When I am accused.
Of this being what I choose.
Or that it’s not real.
You will never know what I feel.
But I tell you now.
I would never wish this on you anyhow.
I would never want or ask of you.
To ever have to walk in my shoes.
Not for a minute, hour, day, or year.
I would rather save you from the tears.
From the pain.
That I go through again and again.
Every day.
All I ask, all I need, for you to say.
Is I believe you, take my hand, it’ll be okay.
Copyright © Victoria Thunberg | Year Posted 2012
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Victoria Thunberg Poem
A father.
Is a daughter's partner.
Their Life is a dance.
Where he only gets one chance.
To lead her across the floor.
To turn her away from wrong doors.
Sometimes it twists and turns.
Both hearts burn.
With pain.
Then it's ok again.
They just sway.
The dance is slow.
Away they go.
Smiling.
And laughing.
Then another change.
The steps, the beat all rearrange.
But they find a way.
In time they stay.
With the beat.
Their eyes meet.
He couldn't love her more.
As they move across the floor.
A man steps in, says dance with me.
Now she's his wife to be.
Dad lets go.
Goes with the flow.
He doesn't hate or curse.
He looks at him, and says, remember she danced with me first.
Copyright © Victoria Thunberg | Year Posted 2012
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Victoria Thunberg Poem
There's a way through this fire, there's a way through this hell.
But the exit I seek is gone for all I can tell.
All I see are closed doors and dead ends.
There are no windows or stops where my heart can mend.
No light to shine, no way to see.
Eternal darkness is all I see.
So where's the man who can set me free?
Oh where, oh where is he?
Where's the man who loved me?
So much that he hung and died on that tree?
Where's the man who loves me so.
Has he left? To where did he go?
These chains, these chains they hold such weight.
How long must I wait?
To be set free?
Do you truly love me?
I called and you did not hear.
I am in a place distilled in fear.
Father don't you hear my plea.
Turn around and SAVE ME!
Please?
I beg PLEASE!!!
Turn around one more time.
Forgive me for all my crimes.
Let me see your face.
Let me see your love for every man, every race.
Just once more.
Father bust down this barricaded door.
Pick me up from this cold hollow floor.
Father for once let the rain pour.
Let it storm, let it fall.
Father hear my call!
Shhh did you hear something.
I swear I heard something.
Did you hear it?
There it is, do you hear it!!!
Listen to the soft song.
The saviors song.
He's coming!!
He's coming!
He's here after all.
He holds the key after all.
He unlocks the door.
Unlocks the chain, I'm off the floor.
But I am not walking.
I can hear him talking.
As he's carrying me.
Weep no more my love, you are free.
I heard you.
I saw you.
But never did I leave you.
I was just waiting.
For you to stop hesitating.
But I heard your voice.
You made your choice.
When you called me.
Now you are free.
Child look, what do you see.
Look around you, this is yours eternally.
There is no death, no hurt, no pain.
Look at all you have gained.
Streets of gold.
Fortunes untold.
Not to mention unfailing love.
This is where you were meant to be.
You were meant to be loved, and you were meant to be free.
I love you, and now you have come to love me.
This is your your home child.
For now and all of eternity.
Copyright © Victoria Thunberg | Year Posted 2012
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