Down a snowy cold path in a small little town a storm brewed deep in the night,
Where a little boy awoke with a shout and a shriek for the lightening had given him a fright.
He ran down the hall and into a room where an old man sat and read,
“Tell me a story Grandpa.” He said as he snuggled back into his bed.
The old man frowned stroking his beard; he got up from his chair to stand,
A sigh, a grunt, a grin, and a smile, the story has just began.
There once were two boys, who lived on a road in the most peaceful town of all,
They’d walk with each other, be there for one another, and after school they’d always play ball.
But one day when walking hand in hand a man pointed to one boy and frowned,
How could you befriend a savage like this, with eyes and hair that are brown?
They looked at their hands they looked at their feet as the man coaxed one boy to his car,
But all they could see was one covered head, some knotted strings and a great yellow star.
The days went by and the boys grew apart, their lives were now worlds away,
One went to school and played with his friends while the boy with the star couldn’t stay.
Then one night at the darkest of hours there was an attack on the star’s house and store,
All glass was broken, all windows were smashed, this night marked the start of the war.
While things for the star got worse by the day, the other boy was overcome by ease,
He would graduate from school, become an honorable man, and his job would never be seized.
Times grew worse for the boy with the star, who was sent to a camp not for fun,
But to work all day, be beaten and starved, for miles he might have to run.
They shaved his head and took his clothes; the conditions were worse then poor,
They were separated from family and threatened by death, his name became 35014.
While many were starving and catching disease, there were those who sat royally and ate,
They lived out their lives discriminating stars and would barely even think of their
fate.
One wretched day a firm soldier called the name 35014,
He grabbed the star smacked him around then roughly threw him into the door.
There were many other stars gathered there, he observed the walls and above his head,
With a squeak from a knob and a spray of some gas he and the other stars quickly were dead.
On the other side of that wall sat the other boy, who was in fact not a boy but a man,
Stars being cleared out, he recognized the boy so he thought how this whole war began.
The years went by and the war was long gone, but he never forgot this young boy,
Who would walk with him home from school every day; play a game with a new ball or toy.
And now that boy who is now a man has many children, who are far from rotten,
But he wants to make sure, no matter how good they are the stars story will never be forgotten.
“Is this a true story?” the young boy said his eyes were now heavy as can be,
“Yes son, indeed,” Said the teary old man, “one of those boys was me.”