Silence.
By: Jill
Silence
Dreadful silence
The air reeks of death
The ghosts of those murdered
hang tight around our throats
and we cannot breathe.
They sit quiet and wait for us
to join them in their eternal unrest.
A gun shot rings.
Two down from me
in this,the judgeing line
is a pale,quivering man.
He holds the lifeless body
of a child.
A single tear finds his cheek
then the last of his life light
leaves his eyes.
All we can do is lie here.
In our shame,our filth.
I watch my fellows
waste away.
And I can do nothing.
So we die
in the silence.
In the pain
of the dreadful silence.
Another poem by me.Watcha think?I did this one for our Hollocaust project!
