'A Child Unheard'

Written by: Victoria Thunberg

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