The feeling I felt after I went to Auschwitz...

I begin this story with the word girl
Who's hair was curly and bended in a swirl.

Her eyes were always shining,
No doubt she was a pearl.
From the Kings daughters she was the favourite girl.

No one ever knew what was this strange swirl,
That occured in her minds that she wasn't the pearl.

And very soon she said the last word life,
Later she was found holding a knife.

She was lying so still burried in flood.
And all around her there was the red blood.

Her beautiful eyes were filled with mud.
She was like the dead flower bud.

Beautiful and pale she looked very sad,
She would have been a good bride but there was no lad.

We will not forget, those who have died.
For all that they done and for the nights that they cried.

For the way they have sacrificed their life
For us to be happy and have life and rife.