Genocide

 The boy remembers a time 
When he used to smile
But now he lies in the dark
With sadness in his eyes
Sleeping on a bed made of wood
The only cushion 
A thin layer of hay
Two other boys sleep next to him
Crammed together in the tiny space
Their hut all together
Filled with over fifty men
In a ten by ten room
And only fifteen beds
The stench at first is unbearable
But soon you get used to it
It almost starts to feel like home
After being there so long
The boy is eight years old
And less than forty pounds 
The only thing he ate that day
Was a fist sized portion 
Of moldy bread
The boy had been dropped off here
Over a year ago
Stuffed into the back of a truck 
With sixty naked men
This was after the soldiers
Came into the boys home
Killed his father before his eyes
And took his mother and sisters 
A separate way
The boys body was scarred
With thick, long lines
From the soldiers whips
The beating a result of 
The boy taking an extra slice of bread
The boy remembers a time 
When he used to smile
But now he lies in the dark
Waiting for the Holocaust to end