Children Cried, All the Way to the Gas Chamber (a poem)

 

Little hands

That should have known

Kindness –

A sweet smile

A pat on the head

And in return,

The sound of merriment

Should sing from their lips

Joy should dance beneath their steps.

Yet a mother’s soul,

Put on display,

For all the world to see –

Lines up for the gas chamber.

You can see the fear in their eyes

And though they do not speak,

You can hear their screams

And their frightened murmuring

What did I do?

What did I do?

You can still hear the sound

It reverberates here

When the wind is just right

You can hear the moaning

Through the trees

A savage reminder

Of what man can become

Yet there is nothing

You can do

To silence the sadness

That looms in this place

It speaks of the loss

It speaks of the terror

And there is nothing left –

Save a monument to their horror.

Had I been there,

I would have

Held them in my arms

Silenced their fears

And held brave

Even though my heart

Would wail in utter sadness

I would have shared

One last kindness

One last smile

One last kiss.

But the past

Has become the past

And my heart

Has become heavy

With the thought of this.

That any nation –

Could not see the crime

And still how many,

Looked aside

While children cried

While children cried

All the way

To the gas chamber.

 

© Sumyanna 2016

 

Submitted for The Daily Post Prompt: savage

Written upon seeing a memorial for the children lost during WWII.

 

Image courtesy of Pixabay.com