Liz Ring
Hitler Poem
6, February 2008
In the morning, boarding the train
You sit and wait
As the trains trail down the tracks
Whoosh, Whoosh, Toot, Toot
You get off and wonder,
No idea where you are
Only hoping that you are going somewhere better,
A man grabs at you with all his strength,
You hear screams that cry out like a baby wanting to be held
The smoke from buildings accumulating in the air,
People working like ants for their food
Cries from women who need their husbands,
Babies who need their mothers.
Is it cries in the night or is it all in your head.
About Me
- Liz
- I like pretty much anything and will have fun doing it even if it is my first time!
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