He keeps quiet. | 1 |
Like us, in censorship, too | 2 |
afraid, to move our lips. | 3 |
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We cower in the corners of | 4 |
our fears. As he | 5 |
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leans over us, we hardly | 6 |
suppress scream. The knife | 7 |
is a truculent recollection of the | 8 |
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shattered collection of my memory. Cut through. | 9 |
I was three when it happened. | 10 |
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They—they almost | 11 |
survived. Today, they lie saved in their graves. | 12 |
Day hasn’t passed | 13 |
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over this nightmare, to the prison | 14 |
where the corrupt rots. | 15 |
I still wonder | 16 |
why his hate was so prevailing. | 17 |
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That night … | 18 |
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I’ll never know. Being a survivor, I | 19 |
pretend to let go of the past. | 20 |
And in my dreams, I hear: | 21 |