We were given an assignment in which we were to watch the testimonies of several people who survived the Auschwitz concentration camp and how they rebelled. We were then to write a poem or create a collage in response to these that displayed the ways they rebelled and our thoughts and feelings. I opted to write this poem.
Auschwitz.
Place of mistreatment.
Place of death,
But not a place
Without love,
Or hope,
Or rebellion.
In fact,
It was full of these things.
Full of hope
And spirit.
For hope and spirit
Were the only things
That these people had left.
So they rebelled,
And they fought,
For their own civil rights.
And had to do it all
On their own because
The people who tried
To stand up for them,
Became one of them.
So they fought back.
They hoped,
And sang,
And stole gunpowder.
For their culture.
For their ability
To whistle a quick tune,
To love their own God.
That is all that is needed.
That is all they ever wanted.
Such rebellion didn’t
Just go unnoticed.
They were punished.
Forced to run,
Forced to eat,
Forced to line up
And wait for death.
But still they fought,
And fought,
Until their minds hurt
As well as their aching,
Bleeding fingertips.
This was horrible,
Inhumane, and wrong.
They were mistreated
And beaten down,
But they rose.
And that is honorable.
And they deserve respect.
They never gave up,
Never stopped singing,
Never stopped worshiping,
Never stopped stealing gunpowder,
They never stopped.
Until they were no
Longer able to continue,
For they were no
Longer able to breathe.
And their hearts were
No longer able
To give a soothing beat
Of life.
Yet, while they could,
They never stopped.
We must remember this,
Or else their fighting will
Be in vain.
And every human life counts.
And that is the exact mindset
That they fought for.
So we better keep it,
And keep their memory alive.
Auschwitz.
Place of mistreatment.
Place of death,
But not a place
Without love,
Or hope,
Or rebellion.
In fact,
It was full of these things.
Full of hope
And spirit.
For hope and spirit
Were the only things
That these people had left.
So they rebelled,
And they fought,
For their own civil rights.
And had to do it all
On their own because
The people who tried
To stand up for them,
Became one of them.
So they fought back.
They hoped,
And sang,
And stole gunpowder.
For their culture.
For their ability
To whistle a quick tune,
To love their own God.
That is all that is needed.
That is all they ever wanted.
Such rebellion didn’t
Just go unnoticed.
They were punished.
Forced to run,
Forced to eat,
Forced to line up
And wait for death.
But still they fought,
And fought,
Until their minds hurt
As well as their aching,
Bleeding fingertips.
This was horrible,
Inhumane, and wrong.
They were mistreated
And beaten down,
But they rose.
And that is honorable.
And they deserve respect.
They never gave up,
Never stopped singing,
Never stopped worshiping,
Never stopped stealing gunpowder,
They never stopped.
Until they were no
Longer able to continue,
For they were no
Longer able to breathe.
And their hearts were
No longer able
To give a soothing beat
Of life.
Yet, while they could,
They never stopped.
We must remember this,
Or else their fighting will
Be in vain.
And every human life counts.
And that is the exact mindset
That they fought for.
So we better keep it,
And keep their memory alive.