I see the threatening gas chamber door, the shadow of hate,
I don’t see the innocent, desperate souls, fearing their fate.
I see the volts and bolts of the evil oven, their final bed,
I don’t see the dead.

I see a beautiful reflection of what appears to be reality,
I don’t see the real reflection: the Holocaust brutality.
I see a haunting, ghost town scene, even the leaves scream fear,
I don’t see a tear.

I see a tiny black peephole, behind it, emptiness and unease
I don’t see the blood shot eyes or the distant calls of, “Please…”
I see the unloading ramp through a window; still and bare,
I don’t see the nightmare.

I see the Zyklon B can and the glare of the poison signs,
I don’t see the contempt that caused the pain and crimes.
I see the narrowing road that led the Jews to their ultimate way,
I hope we never see that day.

I see a ray of light shining on the floor of the punishment cell,
I don’t see the beating, the torture, the screams of Hell.
I see the last remaining gravestone, alone, of a man called Chaim,
I don’t see 6 million other names.

© Alice Butler, Archway School, Y10.