A mountain of spectacles
as if a swarm of dangerous insects
staring back
at the spectators
seeing it all
through the distance
of glass
& Time.
A mound of shoes
with nowhere to walk to
forever.
Faces of the living
frozen in reflection.
Piles of hair
cut
never stroked or brushed
again for ever.
The display cases
trapping the Past
crystaling
Time
in an almost
artistic way.
And children today
think only
that
Auschwitz
is
a German brand
of beer or bread.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/school-visit/
