Cattle Trucks and Train Rides
I'm put on a cattle truck outside of my house,
Tons of tall men not one size of a mouse.
They carry guns and helmets as they stand so still,
Awaiting us all to feel their cold chill.
The cattle truck leaves and reality hits me,
What kind of horrors lie in the path to see?
Do my brothers and sister wonder the same?
Maybe they're thinking this is just a game.
My father looks at me with tears in his eyes,
My mother cries as she says her goodbyes.
Why would she say these things? Won't we still be together?
Maybe, or maybe not. I don't know, I'm not that clever.
We arrive at the train station, so sad, and so gloomy.
Then we are on the train, which is not very roomy.
The train leaves, and everyone starts to cry.
What is the matter? Are we going to die?
Next thing I know, we've arrived at so called Auschwitz.
The guards yell as they push and pull at everyone who comes off.
I'm led with other kids to room that's so narrow, and so dark.
A mist fills the room and I have trouble breathing.
I then see a bright light with an angel at the end,
All though this tragedy hurt my people, it didn't make us bend.
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Growing up, I was always interested in reading, writing, and history. It seemed as if I would always have some historical fiction story to write down on a piece of paper. I wanted to make people laugh and cry as they read my stories; I wanted to fake a horrible event in history and bring some enlightenment out of the characters. However, now that I'm thirteen years old, I realize that when you're writing about tragic things, you shouldn't sugar-coat it. You need to tell the story and get it across to the audience, and that's what my target was when writing "Cattle Trucks and Train Rides."