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for Ashley~*For my baby... 1/26/04*~In your eyesin your soulI see everythingI want to knowand investeverything I amin your smileand I'm a childyour mind is a playgroundand I play for awhileor maybe forever...when we're 80to me, your soulthen like the universeto know you so longand still you teach meI'll growolder100 years olderbrought up by your love
TearTear me from inside out(please)my fingers...clawing into my skinmy armsmy legsshudderingI can't breathe(my tears choke me)eyes wetfloodedsoakenblurring everythinga blur of colors...if I blinkI'll see againif I exhaleI'll breathe againif I'd let goI'd stop bleedingor maybe I can just dieright hereand right nowjust...be tornwithered awaychewed up with my own jawsspat out and benta lumpjust...a lump, nothingam I so now?
Holocaust Stories4 Novemeber 1941Dearest Diary,This is my first entry in you. I had no intentions of writing in you, but since Liliana and I lost the only deck of cards, I had no other choice.Years from now I will look at these entries and laugh because of how immature and confused I was. That is, if I survive the war. Papa says that I need to have more faith. Personally, I find it a little difficult to have faith when you have your religious symbol pinned to your clothing, you are given coupons for the amount of food you can eat, and your friends and family just... vanish into thin air.Of course, the allies could save us... but I wonder how many other ghettos there are. I cannot live without this news...~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~My name is Lilianna Helfgott. This is the Warsaw Ghetto... the place where, "your life begins, is faught for, and ends" as my grandpa, Opa, says. He prays every day, but.. for some reason, it isn't helping. Is fighting for our spiritual beliefs worth it
Margret Cornelia HirthTo children, nothing is significant. They have no prejiduces, no dislikes, and no enemies. Everything seems like a book with the same cover, until they discover it. Then, suddenly, it has a familiar label, and a place in their lives. But I wasn't a child. I wasn't even born with the possibility of having a childhood. I was Margret Cornelia Hirth- an immediate and permenant first class lady.My "childhood" was filled with enchanting discoveries. I remember... a pale little girl, with mousey-brown curls, in a mundane gray dress that was much too large for her. She would press a lifeless teddybear to her chest and pace back and forth, looking at her shoes and then through a window, up at me. I would stare at her endlessly through a thin plate of ice until a stern, fat woman would come to scold her, pinch her cheeks, and take her somewhere else. At that time in my life, I had no idea she worked at a mill and ate only soup and bread for dinner each night. I had thought she was some kind of
Love...Freeze me in time, lovea few seconds for us, lovejust keep me herepretending that you're here...just make me smile nowkiss my lips nowto defrost my heart,as I melt into your heart...don't drop me, loveI'm falling, loveI'm crying nowjust... save me now