Holocaust written in emotions | Teen Ink

Holocaust written in emotions

April 10, 2011
By Ezibeltha SILVER, Saugatuck, Michigan
Ezibeltha SILVER, Saugatuck, Michigan
5 articles 0 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
Funny thing about Joy is that you only really find it when your too busy having fun to go look for it.


The icicles of emotion melt away.

Dropping tears of an increased quantum.

Leaving one fewer memory for the children to find,

For the future to discover.

But summer does not come.

The cascade of lonely tears do not call for help.

They torment and envelope the soul.

Leaving scars unknown to friends.

We become a solitary race.

Hiding our faces from our empathy.

Hiding our mind from our passion.

Creating a lair out of a sweetness.

Creating a drought of emotion leaving only one thing in replace;

Delirious feelings were eaten by the monster of sadness.

Spit out alone in a wooden bunk, with thousands of bodies

smooshed beside you, but a thousand minds far behind you.


A tear. A hug. A kiss. A simple gentle gesture.

A whisper. A squeeze. A presence. An understanding.

A Tune of carefulness plays tonight as we wonder what
become of them. One last passion echoes in the air as

many minds doze into a thoughtless slumber.


Two small eyes stare back at me. I reach my hand

out, familiarity grasps it. The weight of the world

tips slightly as I bounce on my heels, leaning slowly

farther into accustomed love. Little diminished

teardrops of water escape from my impression,

leaving a creek of a small joyous encounter with a

tender star-crossed memory.


Throw open the doors to the unknown.
Or to the known.
None the less, let yourself believe.
They've become an imposing bead to your necklace of life.
Let them transform into the antidote to you sadness.
Hold their spirit in your hand.
Unlock your own for them to see.
The world does not fear you.
You may fear the pain.
A sympathetic glance can show a glimmer.
But we're trying to find a needle in a hay stack.
Virtually impossible.
Unless you can trust yourself and all the others.


Voices shout throughout the world

opposing an army of hate.

The image of neglect parades toward us

we shiver, but hold our ground.

Wavering the impressions

offering a different conclusion.

Opinions prance around with closed minds

unwilling to waver.

How do we change the inevitable

when it knows so much.


It seeps in through forgotten wounds.
Long lost dreams weep in sorrow.

I feel myself drift off into a

state of knowing nothing

except for this.

It drains my only love,my beating rhythmn.
I've unknowingly disposed of the lyrics.

A low humming flutter on the

wings of freedom thumping

ever softer persuades

my thoughts to cry.

I know that I had wished.
But not the right wish.

An emotion had captured me and

bared me in my own prison,

I desperately await my


My thoughts would slip and fall often.
I never did forget who I was,only

who I wanted to be.

That's what fear did to me.

It plucked me from my family.
Placed me with many beautiful minds.

It captured me and watched in

awe as I crumpled to an

alone lost beauty.


Living in peace.
Living a lovely content world.
Living in a creation of reality.
Living a distant memory.

Watching a small warning.
Watching as the painless words ate us alive.
Watching a faithfulness dissolve.
Watching as we denied the inevitable prospects.

Loving the last day.
Loving a last kiss.
Loving the last accessible pleasure.
Loving a family.

Wondering where it came from.
Wondering what it was.
Wondering where in a secluded world did an assassin of the imperfect live.
Wondering what let it become a trust, who let it infect us.

They lived watching their loves turn to dust, wondering where it had come from and what it was. It had surprised the world in one quick betrayal.


Joy, dances simply to the ground.

Dressed in a plain brown dress it twirls around the
mind. Mocks and teases us for we can no longer
understand it. It frolics in the depressed water

owning no name except for 'food'. We know to

eat it, because we crave the wholeness. But the

small joy is only cloaked in one thing. Food.


Red spots fade in his lens.

Refocusing does not help.

"Bad news you say?"

" Well, I have worse," he responds.

" No, you couldn't"

"Oh, but I do."

It erupts out of him.

Flushing out all of the present.

"Try me."

"This is a selection."

"That's pretty bad."

"Still think yours is worse?"

The situation was so unforgettable.

It kept punching him back.

"Yes,I am your worst enemy."

With a click his lens shut.


A coward can't face the end.

A coward can't create the end.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Jul. 17 2011 at 11:29 pm
TheCoffeeKitten BRONZE, Saugatuck, Michigan
4 articles 0 photos 32 comments
Stunning, sad, wise, and beautiful--I can clearly picture a scene and the emotions that run rampant in it.