April 25, 2011
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An icy wind was blowing violent.
Faster you flea-ridden dogs.
We were no longer marching, we were running.
The night was pitch black.
I was putting one foot in front of the other.
Don’t stop, don’t think, run.
My stomach ach’s.
Wait a little.
Soon we will come to a halt.
We run like this to the end.
I cant go on.
I soon forget.
My foot is aching.
I shivered with every step.
Just a few more meters and it will all be over.

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Brokenness_is_Beautiful said...
Dec. 12, 2011 at 12:25 pm
this is really good. The only thing I see is it should be violently in the first line.  It is a little sloww in the beggining and I am noe sure what it is about....bu it is good!
babagirl replied...
Jan. 17, 2013 at 11:50 am
The poem is about the Concentration Camp from Germany. Its sopose to be from the book "Night".
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