Lotte's Fate

The heaviness of prison’s breath,
Snakes it’s way down my spine.
As I remember the sounds of death,
And I sit idle, waiting for mine.

The Nazis have sent me to Auschwitz,
Where my fate is already known.
I have resigned from my fits,
And silent I have grown.

I watch as names are called,
They never come back.
I watch their heads so bald,
Disappear into death so black.

I have become used to the damp ground,
Brave? I am not.
When the ill-fated names they sound,
I hear them yell, “Number 321, Lotte.”