A Poem by Polish author, Jerzy Ficowski about his relationship with the Holocaust, written in the 1980's.
a single life
I did not know how to stop
a single bullet
and I wander round cemeteries
which are not there
I look for words
which are not there
I run
to help where no one called
to rescue after the event
I want to be on time
even if I am too late
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