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My Trip To Auschwitz
I did not complain when my toes succumbed to numbness.
I did not complain when the bitter wind threw itself against me.
I did not complain when the thick mud ruined the flares of my jeans.
In comparison to the tragedy that has befallen here.
I have nothing of value to lose.
What is value?
What can I consider a true loss?
Nothing.
In comparison to the holocaust.
poem
by
Rachel Henley
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