Poetry Night: The Door (Holocaust Poetry)

Last year, I took a course called English 200. In that class we did a lot of work towards satire. But, we also looked at the Holocaust. I'm pretty sure everyone reading this blog knows about the Holocaust. This is one poem I wrote for that class about the Holocaust and didnt think it was any good until I was going through some old writtens. Its coming from the perspective of the door of the Jewish family's home that are attempting to escape the Holocaust live in.

I was made from wood and metal, I reside in the ghetto
With a family, brinking insanity, in a home with two levels
Picture this dream, happy Jews under Hitler's regime?
With the walls, I saw more than the kitchen picking up steam
Apparently, Jews, handicaps, and gays are useless
You a fool, you'll die too if you believe in Confucius
Germany ain't having you live happily, they for nationality
And my home obviously ain't it, they shown it graphically
They come and post signs, never mind, I can't take them off
But my owner did, they kicked me in and it was not soft
Two officers stepped on me in their pursuit of the convict
Of whom taking down the signs being Jewish is a conflict
If only my hinges were tighter and I had a better lock
When they kicked me I would have ticked and maybe they'd stop
Long enough for my owners to pull an Ann Frank and hide out
But frankly they did the side window they had climbed out
The officer is pissed now, he's on the porch with a torch
He spit on my and stood on me as he gathered his thoughts
He ordered his men to come out saying if the roaches don't
He'll burn this house down....
After his men walked out he threw the torch on my eye
I just saw the flames and remember the pain inside