Young, amused, and fable.

To work, they were unable.

They went with the old and disabled.

The poor, little children.

They had no say.

The star was their label.

Their fear and weeping were unstable.

They didn't eat at no dinner table.

The soft-spoken children.

They had no voice.

A/N: So I'm learning about the Holocaust right now, and so I would like to dedicate this poem to the poor, innocent children who were killed in the mess. Even though hundreds of people were dying around them, they reminded us how to look on the brighter side of things. I hope u enjoyed and think about these poor people, and to not be a bystander, but an upstander. Anyone is capable of doing such dirty deeds. So we must stop the hate from the core. Keep kool my pack and read on.