Here I am
Alone in this place
I look around for a familiar face
But all I find are eyes full of fear and hate
Lower than them I am they say
Treated like a dog day after day
Fed scraps from their table if fed at all
Feeling so insignificant and small
A number tattooed upon my arm
Living like an animal in a barn
Abeit Macht Frei the gates did say
Freedom would be ours if we worked each day
The smell was unpleasing
No one knew why
The secret was kept
As curls of smoke floated into the sky
Piles of glasses
Piles of shoes
Many were lost
What will you do?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem