Vacantly we stood at the wire,
Skeletons in prison strips,
To watch the guards at shift retire,
Their healthy flesh, their clothing ripe.
We stood depressed, our mouths agape,
A soundless demonstration,
Our children dead, our women raped,
A silent protestation.
What joy to see a human laugh
In clean and polished clothes,
To joke and tease along the path,
Their cheeks a burning rose.
We the stubborn, not-yet-dead,
A link to they the living,
Think of us while chewing bread
And you shall be forgiven.
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