When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child, chai .
I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .
Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?
It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .
The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.
It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing , cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .
There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love, and reunited with the ones they lost .
The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time .
You could not, but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see .
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet, of the Hostility .
I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish, chosen Religion.
There as I held her frail , old hand , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago . In 1945 , once in our distant, yet Frightening past .
We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
" Etta Babooshka Kofman "
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
The stars that glimmer most,
Are the stars often mistaken for stones
For they are not stones-
They are monuments of those past,
Who have worked to the bone,
For masterment and marvel,
For love unatoned.
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016
Letting in light
The New Age Shul
Dancing, singing , blessings
You can dress comfortably there
I got up and
danced to the glory
of the one before all pretense is useless
I have travelled to the Holy Land
Saw the tribute
to the murdered millions
That was a while back in time
so we can try to forget
Hopefully humanity has
learned something from it
Shalom, yes, Shalom
Copyright © Matthew Anish | Year Posted 2015
If this dance be the last
For I see them throwing spears -
Not for its sport
This dance, a shrilling one.
When we come home for showers
Diapers of our babies, drenched,
Such aroma; a sweet-sour tale to tell
For being ready was the dance for...
Only the dead wishes not for this dance
But the living accustomed to its essence
Such a dance we struggle to get
Yet, a dance we fear to leave
Nor a dance to tango for!
Copyright © Babafemi Yinka Olubodun | Year Posted 2016
He thinks to change times and laws the spiraling silencer of truth. Who burns the libraries and books, in attempts to rewrite your history, Abaddon is one of his names and when he speaks, he speaks of himself. The war of this world closer now, to one world, one religion, and one language. The rich men spare no expense, for they only have this world. Johann Adam Weishaupt and multitude of others, try to establish the vision but they shall fail. False prophets and false miracles: they are of the was not. If you predict something you plan to do, with all technological wonders like some twisted Hannibal codex but they have no honor, For they mutually share destruction, with one mind. Desensitizing you, to the spirit of the antichrist, as they assign and track your number This Big Sister is THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS Mandela effect Esperanto a language That can’t be, yet is
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2017
Holocaust...Trapped..Like the fires of Hell,
Destroyed the old and the young
Millions suffered the agony and despair
Holocaust...Covered in bruises,
Scarring the mind and body for life
Letting only the strong survive
The smell of death lingering in the air,
All around people dying,
Dead bodies piled high as mountains
Holocaust...Like an endless path,
Desperate to leave, With no way out
Holocaust..No name, blank faces,
Look past the face,
Eyes like flames screaming to be extinguished
Holocaust...To live is pain
To die is rest
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2017