Once when I was in that place,
fear ran down over my face.
Scared that I would be found out,
I hid in various places about.
All alone in a barn like shed,
a beating heart, a hurt head.
The snow covered the prairie ground,
I saw my breath in the air around.
Thinking that this life’s not fair,
how much more would I have to bear?
Shall I risk it? Shall I a run?
Will they see me and point their gun?
Doubt emerged and entered my space,
for I was the unlucky unchosen race.
-
Author:
HolesInMyJeans (
Offline) - Published: May 16th, 2025 08:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence, Damaso
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Comments3
Such a horrific metaphor for discrimination of any type. This poem in the first person sends power to the message and I can feel the fear and tension.
Thank you
Although the write refers to a horrific part of history and the persecution a race suffered, it also highlights there should be no descrmination of any sort, nicely expressed and written
Thank you
You are very welcome
Excellent write
Thank you
You're welcome
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