Holocaust Memorial Day

It's said that on Yom Kippur,
The memorial day,
When most Jews gather
In the synagogue to pray,
A smoky cloud drifts like
A shadow high across the sky
And all over the world
A whispering is heard up high
About the six million who
Were murdered on the sly,
No rhyme, no reason,
No one knew quite why,
The smoke still drifts from
The ovens where they had to die,
Eternally their plaintive voices
Will the heavens ply
To remind this cruel world
To think of them and cry,
Remember them and never
Forget their death knell sigh
And always tell the truth about
Their horrid end - to never lie...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2007 Alfred Charasz