You who were different, your face didn't match,
Someone was needed, to take the blame.
On the streets of hate, you were chosen,
Chased down, herded and beaten,
the trains were filled.
The savagery of man, unleashed on fellow man.
The crying of children, screams eternal,
the presence of fear.
Orders were barked, the dogs of war rabid,
The sign over the gates, those gates of work,
the work of death.
Thundering noise filled the air, confusion and dread.
The fires ablaze, black smoke billowed wild,
Spirits set free, flew back to their grace.
Those unchosen, doomed to yet worse,
to die too easy.
People no longer people, numbers not names,
Written in ink, etched on your arm.
The cruelty of man, the inglorious became kings,
kings born from hate.
The power in their hands, a weapon of war.
When all was finished, nobody had known,
What had been done in their name.
"This was not us, nor had we seen",
the blameless,
Hiding behind walls of shame.