Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Nazi

They march in rows of a hundred or more
Steadily they walk
They match in all their uniforms
They match in how they talk
They care little about the cause
Of what they're killing for
All they care for is the cries,
"Please relent! NO MORE!"
They are all ruled by one man
Who hates you without reason
He hands them each a steady gun,
"Run lads, it's hunting season."
Carried away in boxcars
Trapped in disgusting cabs
They are shoved down in the dust
They're bodies painted in scabs
They weren't meant to be here
They were meant to live their lives
But they still get carried off
children, parents, wives
Everyone is terrified
By the speeches he has made
Everyone is lost at heart
No one will be saved
They work you 'til your thin as paper
watching with eyes of ice
They'll shove you into burning stoves
They'll treat you like you're lice
And yet they all survived somehow,
with a number on their arm.
It is a constant reminder
That one man can do harm

2 comments:

kathickers said...

Okay, I suck at responding to poetry, because I mostly just feel it, if that makes sense? But I really like this.

Anonymous said...

Heather!
You're such an amazing writer.
Damn.
I love it.
And i love you!


And by the wayyyy...
One day i will become your little trophy wife.
(: