Zera's Room: Notebook: Poetry Holocaust The molester of truth The rape of a race everyone dies with a smile on their face. The masses of bodies lying aside the aftermath of genocide. The echo of laughter threw the halls a bullet ricocheting off the walls. It pierces my heart straight and true and I let out a cry too. As I fall to the ground I see the pain a phony grasp on life I claim. If I can hold on a little longer It will make my soul grow stronger. Copyright 1997, P. F. Anderson & Zera Anderson. Back to the notebook. Turn around, back to the room. Return to the Second Floor Balcony. Return to Dreamhouse Homepage. Last modified November 29, 1997. URL of current page: http://pubweb.acns.nwu.edu/~pfa/dreamhouse/zrm/ntbk/zpholo.html