The Persistence of Memory


I haven’t forgotten you
How could I even try?
Haunting my waking dreams,
Your eyes plead to me
From emaciated faces,
Crying out for justice.

I hear laughter
As you’re herded like cattle
From the boxcars
To the gas chambers
They so cleverly disguised
As showers.

I can hear babies crying
As they’re torn from their mothers’ arms,
Thrown against walls,
Or dissected like animals
By trained doctors.

I smell the smoke,
It stings my eyes,
Pouring from the chimneys
Of the crematoriums
Where they’re burning your bodies.
I pray for your souls
As they reduce your bodies to ashes
To use as fertilizer in their garden.

I hear laughter.
I hear them laughing,
Laughing because they think
That they’ve won.


3 thoughts on “The Persistence of Memory

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