The heat strikes my face <br />scornful, violent <br />the flame roars, screams <br />falls silent <br /> <br />dust settles, <br />like a blanket of snow <br />curtains over their mistakes <br />burn it all, they'll never know <br />the pain, our war creates <br /> <br />stood here in grey attire <br />at the gates of hell <br />the stench clings to my skin <br />the tears of those who fell<br /><br />Jacob Andrew Jarman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/auschwitz-1942/
