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What I feared

Recently I heard someone say that

God was right above Auschwitz

Asking people

What are they capable of?

 

What I feared most was to find out how

Your life was taken.

 

I was afraid to turn the page

You were my friend now and enraged

I screamed,

You can’t die at that age.

 

Obviously I only screamed in my head.

(This emotional cacophony is sincere only at fifteen)

 

My parents said

I must remember that

We can only afford

A few days of vacation

And Your diary, apparently,

Doesn’t make the best

beach reading.

I cried over your photo…

Trying to juxtapose

Your face against your fate.

While sand, wind and salt water

Had their way with my face.

 

I learned that it is very easy to cry

On the beach

And remain unnoticed.

And that I am not sure if there is a God.

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