Little Boy

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Little Boy

I don’t know how to feel Little Boy

How it feels to have your hands up in defeat

I don’t know how to see, Little Boy

To see through Your eyes

The bombed concrete

and the corpses upon corpses you’ve walked by

I don’t know how to feel, Little Boy

to hear the gunshots and screams

of children women and men

I don’t know how it smells Little Boy

the smell of death and ashes making

grey snow upon the ground

I don’t know how it tastes Little Boy

the taste of bread and soup

or nothing at all

or the taste of blood as they beat you,

making you feel so small

I don’t know you, Little Boy

I wasn’t in your place

as you saw the massacre of the Jewish race

I can’t say I know how you feel

But I’ll always remember that

It

Was

Real

so I raise my glass to you, Little Boy

who just looks so lost

and to the children who lost their lives

in the Holocaust.

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2 thoughts on “Little Boy

  1. suzanne crawford says:

    We knew of your passion for writing, but because of distance had no idea how accomplished you are! We wish you had shared your blog earlier; you are amazing!! Continue to reach for your dreams. love Grammie and Poppie

    Like

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