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Waiting for Freedom
March 20, 2010
Torn apart but determined to be strong,
She's been waiting,
Waiting for so long,
When will it end?
She's been waiting,
Waiting for her heart to mend
She's continuing to fight,
She's been hoping,
Hoping with all her might
Has God heard her plea?
She's been hoping,
Hoping He'll set her free
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JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 17 comments.
Christany Baker BRONZE said...
on Jun. 9 2011 at 10:57 am
Raggedman
I really like the poem you posted. Good descriptions, few words, but you really painted a picture. I'm glad you mixed up my poem with another so that I could see it :)
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 31 2011 at 12:09 pm
I have to go- I will be back on in 4 hours.
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 31 2011 at 12:06 pm
You wrote about Der Fuher?! If you like writing about him you should watch the movie Der Untergang. It's very good. Btw you should take German- it's fun and then you can incorporate bits and pieces into your story to get more depth. If you Google livemocha you can learn any language you want for free.
sure here it is
The sound of boots ringing on cobblestones fills the air,
I see shapes of men clad in grey marching down the street.
These are not men but images of things that were;
These are not men for they feel neither hope nor mercy.
These shades pass by carrying death in their hands and flags dyed with blood.
Their country burns at their hands yet they feel no remorse,
These unfeeling wraiths will fade into time
But their actions will haunt the world evermore.
These men served the most hated man in the world,
A man they called Fuehrer.
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 31 2011 at 12:02 pm
Sorry- I'm guessing that wasn't for me was it, Raggedman? Can you put who you are talking to at the end of your message?
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 31 2011 at 11:56 am
The sun burns me down my back and all over my hands. I grip tightly to the rocks I am carrying up the side of the quarry. I try not to be seen or heard any different from the rest of them. We are all the same in the Nazis minds.
Jews.
As I prepare to put my rocks down on the ground at the top of the quarry the Hauptarbeitsleiter- the head worker leader- pushes me back and I fall down the steep side of the quarry. When my head finally collides with the ground I black out.
There's a shadow- a wisp of hair- a turn of the head- "Sofie! Sofie, come back!" I scream. The shadow, the wisp of light blonde hair and the turn of the head always over the left shoulder- it is her. "Sofie, where are you?" I call out. I am running through the meadow that appears before me- it's the meadow I used to run in as a boy. I know it by heart. Sofie is standing at the end of it. Her petite body nearly hidden in the tall grass. Her green eyes are filled with a foreboding I don't care about. I want her. I am almost there- I can almost taste her strawberry lip balm and I can almost feel the curve of her body; the body that used to be in my arms and I used to want and still want. She turns away just as I reach for her wrist. "Warten Sie, ich komme! Warte auf mich! Bitte Sofie!" "Wait; I'm coming! Wait for me! Please Sofie!" She doesn't listen to me and suddenly I'm no longer the meadow with her- we are in Auschwitz-Birkenau and she is standing with her shaved head in line to the showers. "Sofie! Get away from there!" I exclaim. She doesn't seem to hear me. I try to take her out of the line but she doesn't budge. She walks into the building. I am left with two options- follow her in and die with her or have a chance to live. I back away from the building and yell to her. "Ich liebe dich, Sofie!" "I love you, Sofie!"
"Aufwachen!" a Jew with dark brown hair calls to me bringing me back to the quarry and away from the horror of Sofie's death.
I am alive.
She is dead.
How am I alive?
I am not.
Not truly.
We are dead together.
I am only stuffed into my living body.
She is stuffed into her corpse.
There is nothing I can do about it except pick up another rock and carry it up the side of the quarry and wait.
Wait.
Wait.
What for?
Sofie's gone.
Wait for my death?
Nein.
No.
I wait for freedom.
Jews.
As I prepare to put my rocks down on the ground at the top of the quarry the Hauptarbeitsleiter- the head worker leader- pushes me back and I fall down the steep side of the quarry. When my head finally collides with the ground I black out.
There's a shadow- a wisp of hair- a turn of the head- "Sofie! Sofie, come back!" I scream. The shadow, the wisp of light blonde hair and the turn of the head always over the left shoulder- it is her. "Sofie, where are you?" I call out. I am running through the meadow that appears before me- it's the meadow I used to run in as a boy. I know it by heart. Sofie is standing at the end of it. Her petite body nearly hidden in the tall grass. Her green eyes are filled with a foreboding I don't care about. I want her. I am almost there- I can almost taste her strawberry lip balm and I can almost feel the curve of her body; the body that used to be in my arms and I used to want and still want. She turns away just as I reach for her wrist. "Warten Sie, ich komme! Warte auf mich! Bitte Sofie!" "Wait; I'm coming! Wait for me! Please Sofie!" She doesn't listen to me and suddenly I'm no longer the meadow with her- we are in Auschwitz-Birkenau and she is standing with her shaved head in line to the showers. "Sofie! Get away from there!" I exclaim. She doesn't seem to hear me. I try to take her out of the line but she doesn't budge. She walks into the building. I am left with two options- follow her in and die with her or have a chance to live. I back away from the building and yell to her. "Ich liebe dich, Sofie!" "I love you, Sofie!"
"Aufwachen!" a Jew with dark brown hair calls to me bringing me back to the quarry and away from the horror of Sofie's death.
I am alive.
She is dead.
How am I alive?
I am not.
Not truly.
We are dead together.
I am only stuffed into my living body.
She is stuffed into her corpse.
There is nothing I can do about it except pick up another rock and carry it up the side of the quarry and wait.
Wait.
Wait.
What for?
Sofie's gone.
Wait for my death?
Nein.
No.
I wait for freedom.
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 31 2011 at 11:54 am
Waiting for Freedom my poem has been posted so you can read it.
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 31 2011 at 11:53 am
Yes- and my story Lost Treasures has been published on here! :D
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 31 2011 at 11:49 am
That's very cool- to be able to channel thoughts and feelings like that into a poem.
Christany Baker BRONZE said...
on May. 31 2011 at 11:38 am
I know you were looking at the wrong poem, but if you want to know this poem was inspired by my struggle with anxiety and depression.
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 30 2011 at 12:16 pm
Email me it's my username and it's gmail I'll send it to you that way.
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 30 2011 at 12:14 pm
Wait this isn't my poem!
blacksummer2014 SILVER said...
on May. 30 2011 at 12:13 pm
I'm reading the book Annexed by Sharon Dogar. You should read it it's a really good book.
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