One Voice from a Mass Grave

A Poem by Maik Strosahl

When the men came and
dragged us to the edge of town,
father kept encouraging me
to be brave.

They made us dig this hole.
As dusk approached,
they lined us around,
allowed a moment to pray.

I saw father,
again whispering
from the other side
to be strong.
I saw him fall.

One by one,
men fell into the pit,
boys fell into the pit,
I fell.

They checked only once
for movement,
fired extra rounds
until satisfied
all were stilled.

I fear I was not so brave,
I fear I was not so strong.
Father’s death brought sorrow,
my wound brought tears,
the shovels full of earth
brought darkness.

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