Cambio Network
Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Why me? Why now?

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Little Johnny Blue
He’s my brother, you see
He died in front of me.
The Selection was malicious;
They whisked him away without a fret.
The soldiers chained him to Death
As if they were long-lost friends.
Little Johnny Blue’s eyes—they never left my sight.
I watched him go, I just stood there.
He went to the crematory,
Where he would join his Brothers and his Sisters
I pray his death will be quick, but no guarantees.
This is Auschwitz, folks—no one gets by easily.
My hand is held by my little sister Lisa,
Who won’t stop screaming,
“Why me? Why now?”
She is five and knows no better, but the guards won’t stop shouting.
Everyone watches her demand an answer. She’ll never get one.
We’ve been cooped up in here for two weeks
With Death taunting us,
The soldiers always at our heels.
Lisa is sent to the showers
For reasons other than a cleansing.
I hope she closed her eyes and thought
Of the days when we breathed freely.
When hatred was scarce and
A person could believe in anything imaginable.
Now there is no food, no life, no happiness—
No brother, no sister, no family, no friends.
I don’t understand.
The babies are the brightest
And the elders are the wisest.
The adults might be workers but they sure aren’t the best.
No matter what a person believes we are equal and human
All people have eyes but some can’t see.
These soldiers have eyes and can see as easy as can be.
They are blinded by the money and are deafened by the threats
They listen to no one but the people controlling the rest.
We’ve all been created equal, right?
So why can’t we be free?
When times are tough a person adapts.
We’ve been taught in school that murder is wrong.
We’ve learned that killing another is a crime.
So where is the justice?
Where is the peace, the equality, the tranquility?
It is not in the crematories,
Or under the mounds and heaps of slaughtered bodies,
Or inside the electric fences that keep us in,
Or the gas showers that kill so slowly.
Little Johnny Blue’s eyes give me insight to the unjustness of this place
And Lisa’s trembling voice has me saying her words aloud.
Why me? Why now?




Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback