Hidden
In the darkest corner
Of the dank attic
Under years worth of dust
In the deserted house
Lies a box.
Inside the box
Near the hole in the roof
Under the stars
Of the abandoned house
Are memories
Of people,
Young and old,
Rich and poor,
Hidden for safe-keeping,
Also hidden in the house
Long ago were people.
During a war
Under the rule
Of a cruel dictator.
They left behind memories,
Photographs and notebooks,
Personal items and items
Of nostalgia
To be retrieved after the war,
When they were free
To walk about
Without fear of punishment or death
For just being Jewish.
But noone came back
To retrieve their treasures--
Hidden--
Because the people no longer existed.
So the memories remain hidden
Encapsulated,
Safely kept
To be discovered one day
By someone who lovingly
Uses the hidden memories
To tell the story
Of countless lives lost
To keep history from repeating itself.
Copyright © Linda Craddick | Year Posted 2021
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