I visited the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, then went to a coffeeshop in the Red Light District and wrote this poem.
Living in fear, hiding for your life is the worst;
Religious and otherwise, it is for Freedom that you thirst.
Cry at night, for things that cause you to parch;
Outside the windows, their black boots did march.
Hitler’s killers, on the look for you;
Every day is the same, nothing ever new.
Small cramped quarters, more families, no room;
No place for a young, beautiful, little girl, to bloom.
Can’t breathe, or scream out in dread;
Find you they will, then end up dead.
Sneak a peak, to see what’s there;
Nazi’s, goose-stepping in the square.
Their mission, is eradication of the Jews;
Who dies, they get to choose.
Anne wrote her feelings and fears, in a book;
I’m curious, and gonna take a look.
Imagine her thoughts, of dying and torture;
Must be gripping and harrowing, for sure.
Anne, never made it out alive;
Her father Otto, did survive.
Returned to Amsterdam, after the end;
Found Anne’s Diary, and began to mend.
He got it published, two years after her death;
Words of hers, from her last breath.
It is a gift to the World, to learn and not forget;
Another Hitler, the World will now not let.
Thank you Anne, for your bravery and courage;
You have helped, future genocide to discourage.
Enjoy your days in Heaven, and know this very well;
There is an Eternity for Adolf, in the fires of Hell.