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Gold Gates: A Holocaust Poem
Our Train starts. I don’t think or feel anything along the trip. Just peace
We arrive to our destination; everyone is stunned silent... by fear or beauty? I don't know.
We step without being told, we cry and aren't punished. We see, but for some reason we do not believe.
We look around, its light like noon but no sun is seen, the grass covers the ground, a blanket of green, and it shines in the mysterious light.
In front of us is a gate, an arch, an entrance, it glows a gold color to beautiful for the kind of world we live in.
I’m scared, it’s a trick, it looks inviting, but they are only going to hurt us more. They think of us as foolish puppies starving for beauty.
People around me cry, do they know something i don’t? Where are we?
We wait in a single file line, some scared, some relieved. I don’t know how I feel or how I should feel..
There are three people in front of me, and then I enter the unknown.
Something tightens in my chest, I feel like falling, I understand now, I understand it all.
Hot tears flow down my fast, clearing away the past. More tears come, tears of joy...
I’m up, it’s my turn, I start to tremble, shake, stagger. Still I cry.
Someone has there arms around me, hugging me close. Then he whispers:
"Your free daughter, you’re free, open your eyes they can't hurt you anymore, you’re free."
I Understand, these aren't the gates of Lodz or Auschwitz, or Warsaw. There are the gates the gold gates of Heaven.
I’m free.
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"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. <br /> Explore. Dream. Discover." <br /> -Mark Twain