The Gold Star ( World War II)

The Gold Star
Just a shape
Cut from cloth
Forced to wear the golden star
Who would it hurt
It’s just a shape cut from the old cloth
Before sunrise, we heard those stars telling of our futures
Backed into cattle cars, shipped away
Separated from family, and friends
Who knew that a little gold star cut from old cloth
Could be so destructive
One day forced to do hard labor
Then sentenced to death
As the smoke starts rising we know our time is coming
As we walk toward our death in the darkest night
We look up and see a sky full of golden stars

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