Authors, Writers, Publishers, and Book Readers
What It Was Like
It all started one Monday afternoon
Our happiness ended so soon, so soon.
In marched the Swastikas, how evil they are
Their colors like blood on the bright evening star.
Red and black, white and red,
Not caring at all for the names of the dead.
I’ve watched my family crumple to the floor,
Dead with no air because of the closed shower door.
Holding their friends and clawing at the walls,
When I close my eyes, I can still hear their calls.
The beds are too full, the bunks are too small,
I don’t know how we manage to get any sleep at all.
As I lay there, hoping, resting,
I hear many heartbeats slowing, stopping.
So many have come, so many have passed.
I do not know and cannot tell how long this will last.
Yet hope still burns like tiny coals,
It will flare again within our souls.
The evening star will shine again
Giving hope to those that are and have been.
I work, I weep, I scream, I sleep,
I try not to think of me,
I just want everyone else to be free.
By: Cassidy Young
(I would have entered this in Never Again Spokane, but it's too short :) I don't have the heart to change it.)