Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2014
As I step out of the crowded train of reality,
The dirt of sorrow clings to my ankles.
Ragged clothes drape my body,
As hostile hands grip my arms.
Confusion captivates my mind,
The unknown brings fear.

Crammed like cattle,
Through metal thorn’d gates.
Deafening voices roar unfamiliar words,
As rough hands grab all;
Separating men and women,
Forcing to conform to a line.

The cold chill of the air pierces,
As mud cakes beneath my feet.
Anticipation and fear infiltrates…
As I look ahead and the line separates,
Right and left, the only choice;
As mothers scream for their daughters.

Shoved to the right, questioning the left,
Watching the lefty’s last walk.
Shriveling screams reverberate,
Watching ****** smoke climb.
Fortunately escaping death,
But longing to already be gone.

A monster masked by medals,
Strips my rags and shoes,
Leaving me cold, numb, and violated.
As I continue the line, he quickly picks the flower.
Overwhelming tears drain my face,
Vulnerably pressing forward through thickening mud.

Another beast with dull blades,
Cuts all my hair down to the skin,
Shaving away all beauty,
Leaving me only a bar of soap.
Pushed under rusted pipes,
Trickled with chilled droplets.

Overwhelmed by unfamiliar feelings,
Pushed away from the bathhouse,
A rucksack is packed over my head,
Over my shivering frame.
My name, identity and worth are stripped,
Replaced by six black bloodletting digits.

As time goes by, some are gone.
Lying in the wooden egg carton.
Matchsticks in dampened boxes,
Soon loose their spark,
As the flesh seems to disappear,
Leaving only brittle bones.

Ducts are dry from empty reservoirs,
The human seems dead.
Animalistic hunger possesses my mind,
As hollow stomachs rip with wanting.
The demon guard whips as hunger pains,
Starving the innocent matchsticks.

One false movement ends with lead,
Winces of pain punished with leather.
Enduring bloodied feet and cut up hands,
My boney body pushes the wheelbarrow,
Throwing lost souls into a meaningless grave,
Causing me no remorse.

My vacant existence leaves me broken,
Making me question all I have known.
My empty black eyes lost all desperation,
My envied physique transformed to a corpse.
Heart slowly pumping, making me deathly alive.
The soul-less walking skeleton.

My Auschwitz, my Auschwitz;
Breaking every cell and soul.
Isolating me from the outside.
Ironically destroying rather than protecting.
Disillusioned guards enforce,
Forcing me to do the inevitable.

Dizzying pain and uncertainty,
Making me aimlessly wander.
Perception highly surreal,
When nightmares seem true.
Melting towards death,
Body too weak to move.

A soldier’s screams seem like wind,
His kicks and punches feel like pillows.
Brown mud and black boots mesh together,
Reality turns to slow motion.
A black stick aimed at my head,
I smile and…
Black.
Amber Drake
Written by
Amber Drake  Utah
(Utah)   
748
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems