May 25, 2011
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Oh, and what about that little boy
Too young to figure out what state he’s in
One of the unfortunates
Battered uniform, off-white and pale blue stripes
Rigid ribs exposed as instructed
Observe the old and frail sent off to the dungeon
Suffocating smoke chokes moist air, eyes become blind
Just the beginning of disturbance
For that little boy
Corrupt by his Jewish faith
Infants garbaged into swallowing pits
And as a threat, little boys just like him, hanged for showcase
By night,
Packed –
Beneath, between, intertwined
Within one another
Packaged and canned
And thrown out if you’re spoiled
Oh, and what about that little boy’s friend
Who made it past those neighboring gates
Who didn’t have a clue of what he was getting himself into
Even in his last few moments alive
By then,
It was already too late
Pressed against each other
Little boys, hand in hand
Faced their poisoned ashes
Cremated together
Forever forgotten
As what has happened, had happened
Went on

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