Poem: Why Must I Go
Editors note: I’m posting a few poems I wrote a while back for a creative writing class.
This poem is about a Jewish mother’s horror as she is separated from her family after their arrival at a concentration camp. I’m not sure of the style of the poem. I’m not really a poetry person. I prefer prose.
The order came, we packed our things.
My husband hugs me, my babies tug at me.
Herded to the boxcar like cattle,
our names no longer matter.
I do not understand why my babies must go.
They have done nothing wrong.
Standing there with the angry red face
filled with hate, showing no fear.
I hold my mother’s hand.
I assure her that all will be well.
A man on a horse, points left, right.
I weep as my husband disappears,
then my children, my dear mother.
I weep as I think of our final good-bye.
The frost of the window reminds me
of the coldness of man.
The smoke billows
from the red chimneys.