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To the Lost and Unfound (A Holocaust Story).
This winter's bitter Cold,
Cold, Cold as my soul.
I can't stop thinking about that day.
The day they say,
They say we all died.
Though its so hard to find,
Could these charcoaled bodies lied?
Is it true we were beaten and tied?
From the day we stepped in this camp
We were marked with a bloody stamp.
Bar codes on our left arm
Tell us that we are fit for harm.
Cannot let go of my aching past
When under the gallows my brothers died fast.
Then we saw that horrible sign
That horrible sight that reminded us to die
The smoke in the air and our stomaches so small
Man can only stand so tall
We rebelled against our faith
We begged for death in gods wake
Never again can we be what we were
Before the war that once stirred
Eyes sunken and bones shown
Our pale complextion a ghostly tone...
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