Sit back, relax and reminisce with me
A time that was ours and misery
Lest we forget our harboured ways
And go back to the time that we strayed
Not that now we do no crime
Not that we ever did the time
It was then but it’s still present
That’s treating each other like lowly peasants
Waging war across the earth
These aren’t ever times of mirth
Watching bodies fall on either side
Knowing someone’s father, brother, son has died
The ever-present hum that death energy gives
Ghosts of the dead still haunt those who live
Imprinted on our souls are scars that can’t heal
Some even forget how to feel
For 45,000 Canadians it was final stage
Some even at young age
Imagine as the news reaches the homes of the lost
Instantly that one last memory is the only thought
But was there not animosity here?
Did we not do things secretly in fear?
We live and lived covering our eyes, ears, and mouths and what’s more
Blind, deaf, and mute to our own discord
We said, “Fight the devil that is Hitler.”
The propaganda was a filter
But never, “Fight the devil that is us.”
Never once did ever we make a fuss
Can we say with a full heart that we do no wrong?
Our country wasn’t unified and strong
Jews came over as refugees trying to escape
They wanted to outrun that ape
But what did we do other than think of ourselves?
We did not care for anyone else
Only our reputation and we turned them away
We really could have let them stay
We assumed that our own were spies
Doing the same thing as those Nazi guys
Concentration camps to internment camps
Giving them darkness without a lamp
Prejudice and petty suspicion
is this some sort of a tradition?
So where there was wrong in our nation before
Now it is here once more
For racism is forever, at least that’s how it seems
It may die down like it’s not around but in one’s blood it streams
The evidence is history
But where it was formed is a mystery
Our earth is defiled again and again
As its people never repent
Its inhabitants destroy each other incessantly
Killing and dying…where is mercy?
Written in our code
Is a darker mode
That is all we have become; it is time to mourn
Our loss of lives and hearts of scorn
About the Creator
Shenique
Writing is my vocation. I feel so complete and so warm when I am writing, reading or even talking about my stories or poetry. Therefore I am grateful for this website.
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