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.
Copyright © Edward Ndopu | Year Posted 2017
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