NaPoWrMo: #12 Thoughts on The Diary of Anne Frank

We went to Seattle Children’s Theatre’s lovely rendition of A Diary of Anne Frank tonight. It got me to thinking of all she must have thought. A lifetime of thoughts in one so very young. Here is my attempt to put that into words.

Anne’s Diary of Hidden Places

A small tight space

Standing side by side for hours

Bombs going off

Shaking the plaster

Down until we look like

Old men and women

Even though some of us are children

We might die as the old

Even though we haven’t

Fallen in love, walked in the sun holding hands

Found our place taking up the space

We thought we could or would

The world hasn’t heard our voices

It wasn’t our choice

To go into hiding

Because our customs

Our beliefs are different

And we are from old lineage

Our heritage scares

The man across the street

Because we are many

We are now being hunted

Down to few

I cry seeing a sliver of the open sky

Imagining I’m a bird

That can fly far away

From the destruction and hate

I believe all men are really good at heart

This is where they start

They are like barren trees

That sprout buds

Bursting forth from love’s

Eternal spring calling

Into a full strong tree

Full, green leaves of life

That shade me when the sun

Is too strong

So, I can rest

This is what I think of

Crammed in where I don't belong

Waiting for the noise to end

The sorrow that drowns my dreams

To drain away

And though I am soaked

I will dry off

And write about the glorious sun

That is the prettiest sunset

And I will see it in the dawn

Of my new day

The world’s new love

For all mankind