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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1367466-Lest-We-Forget
by -
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1367466
The brutal murder of a Jewish family during the Nazi regime
He ran in from the street; crashed through the door
Flailed like a spider for wood from the floor
Sealed the entrance, escape, our fate with a key
“Run! Take the boy! They’re coming! Nazis!”

Trapdoor in the kitchen, nobody knows
I take what is precious, down, down below
Drunk voices outside, a bang at the door:
“Open this house in the name of the law!”

Husband: “What do you want? What have I done?”
Answer: “You’re Jewish, you’re dirty, you’re scum.
“From Isaac to Ishmael, all Abraham’s seed,
“are bloodsucking leeches, vermin – God’s weeds”

Reluctant, fearful, he pulls back the lock
Our graveyard, like locust, Gestapo do flock
Their leader slips in, their spiritual guide:
“Another, a woman, where does she hide?”

Broken and desperate, my husband does lie:
“I’m a lonely old man, alone till I die.
“Please leave me alone, I’ve done nothing wrong
“This country’s my home and here I belong.”

Our daemon steps forward, speaks in his ear:
“I know that you hide her, I know that she’s here”
He walks round the house, his eyes search the room
Within him some pleasure caused by our doom

He stops in the kitchen, sniffs at the air
Bangs on the floorboards: “I’ve got her! Down there!”
Smile on his face like a child out to play
The echoes above us gave us away

Three men run forward and pull up the rug
knocking over the table, clumsy as thugs
and eager as children on bright Christmas day
tearing open their presents, happy and gay

One cries out proudly: “There’s a baby down here!
“A bitch and a baby, this’ll make my new year!”
Pulls me up screaming, my baby as well
I’m kicked to the floor and down towards hell

My husband jumps forward, covered in blood,
“Not my wife! Not my child! Have you no good?”
Rips off his shirt and falls to his knees
“Here! I beg you! Be contented with me!”

But the Nazi, that devil, laughs at his plea:
“Jew you are foolish to ask this from me
“If I let them live and pitied your cries
“I’d rip off their arms and pluck out their eyes
“And leave them to wonder this world all alone
“So children could beat them and hit them with stones
“But my master, mein Führer, has more mercy than I
“And in his goodness, his mercy, allows them to die.”

He raises his gun and aims at the man
Distraught by despair, no hope and no plan
Pulls on the trigger, blood seeps through his vest
The six-pointed star lies still on his chest

I charge at the man but he knocks me back down
He strikes at my face and tears at my gown
Eyes trespass my body, slowly molest
I see his desire as he stares at my breast

“It’s a shame,” he starts, “That you were a Jew
“That curses come to pretty girls such as you
“But if you get up and come home with me
“Maybe I’ll sort it, maybe, we’ll see.”

I rise to my feet and play with my lips
Send a hand down, slowly, over my hip
Then look in his eyes and spit on the floor
“Not while I live will you ever see more”

He screams in rage and his arms start to shake:
“Fine then! Defy me! You’ve made a mistake!”
I’m held back by his men, he picks up my son
“You’ll witness his death for what you have done.”

By his legs he spins him, fast through the air
Watching him die is a pain I can’t bear
And if he could speak I swear he would say:
“Mummy, don’t worry, they’ll realize some day.”


And the walls are painted red by what was once in his head
“By the order of Adolf Hitler your baby is dead.”
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