Untitled Poem

To David.

He took notes.

He sat and listened as someone explained the minds of his murderers.

He processed and wrote down information about the people who stood by as human beings,

fathers, mothers, babies, children,

just like him,

were tortured and put to death.

He took it in and observed.

Who knew that pen and paper were hell fire resistant.

Did they foresee the strength he would possess? A few more lines scratched the page.

Would they imagine that of all things to survive blind hate, humanity would be it?

He crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees.

In a calm silence,

he took notes.


This is part of a series called, Small Glimpses into the Past, where we see mini-reflections on impactful moments that have changed certain perspectives on life. You can send your submissions to submissions.nivmag@gmail.com

Header image design by Orly Zebak. 

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