The Good German

When I was a child
In the second decade after World War II
They showed us films of the bodies
White, naked, with ribs like bars on a sewer grate
The bodies tumbled one over the other
Landing in enormous pits in the ground
Stacking up like kindling wood

I told myself if I’d been there
I’d have tried to stop it
I’d have become a traitor
I’d have helped the enemy
To attack us, bomb us
Do whatever it took to stop us
Even if it meant prison
Torture
Death
I would not have been
A Good German

But that was long ago
When I was a child

This article was posted on Sunday, October 24th, 2021 at 8:04am and is filed under Poetry.