The Boy and The Train

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem I wrote about genocide.

Submitted: August 08, 2012

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Submitted: August 08, 2012

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The Boy and the Train

 

 

Gaunt and haunted

I watch with trepidation at the black-grey smoke

trailing behind the hungry train.

It’s coming for me..for them….for all

of the Jews that stand crying, wailing in the rain

but yet we

stand in compliance.

As I watch

the train rolls down the track towards me

getting ever larger as it rolls near.

The angry train is ravenous and looks

at my starred swatch.  It knows what I am.

It finds the ones with the swatch the

most delicious.

It has stopped now and

its angry minions now help it to open its mouth.

As I slosh my feet forward, no where to go but forward

I think that

life has certainly been precious.

The train must be hungrier than I thought

as I am pushed and shoved forward by

its minions.

It’s mouth gapes open and I step inside.

Dark, damp, the smell of death, the smell of disease.

As it closes its trap

I smell the smoke again and know that

its also waiting for me.

All of us it will seize.

 


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