My body heaves and convulses
while tears stream down my face
blurring my vision
like a camera lens in fog.
My mind was sick.
I had just watched the movie
The Pianist about the Holocaust.
The Holocaust was sick.
A man in a wheelchair fell
from a tenth story window,
dumped out by the SS.
Sickness.
My body was sick.
I could not speak.
I could barely cry for that matter.
All I could do was sob.
My spirit was sick.
I hadn't prayed in a whole month
and God and I were floating
farther and farther apart.
My soul was moved.
I heard the real star in The Pianist
Wladyslaw Szpilman play
Chopin's Nocturne in C# Minor.
(that is NOT a hashtag)
That was when I broke down.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
My body heaves and convulses
while tears stream down my face
blurring my vision
like a camera lens in fog.
My mind was sick.
I had just watched the movie
The Pianist about the Holocaust.
The Holocaust was sick.
A man in a wheelchair fell
from a tenth story window,
dumped out by the SS.
Sickness.
My body was sick.
I could not speak.
I could barely cry for that matter.
All I could do was sob.
My spirit was sick.
I hadn't prayed in a whole month
and God and I were floating
farther and farther apart.
My soul was moved.
I heard the real star in The Pianist
Wladyslaw Szpilman play
Chopin's Nocturne in C# Minor.
(that is NOT a hashtag)
That was when I broke down.
This actually happened. I was at home one day from school with nobody around and turned on Chopin's Nocturne in C# Minor. I swear I could hear every death he had witnessed during the Holocaust in that song.
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