A Star of the Holocaust // by Emma K. (January 2016)

A yellow star I'm forced to wear,
And in pain and sorrow share.
A mark of suffering, a badge of hate,
A death mark entwined with my fate.
Stars can mean so many things,
For some a fanciful dream they bring.
A mark of beauty, shining bright,
Twinkling in the navy night.
A handful of diamonds in the sky,
A chance for a yearning wish to fly.
A fairy tale, a midnight dream,
Beauty beyond reason, a magical regime.
But for me a star means something cruel,
The star binds me with angry rules.
A mark of death, an insignia of pain,
A symbol of hate, pounding like rain.
A star is troubles, trials, tears,
If I survive to the end, I've lived a thousand years.
But stars are formed through pressure and heat,
An explosion of light, a collision of energy.
Through fire a strong blade is forged,
Through intense heat a star is born.
A star impacts the space surrounding,
The power it carries is a symbol astounding.
A star is light, a star is strength,
A star is strong incredible faith.
A bright spot in a dark night sky,
A piece of hope, encouragement to try.
I am a star, but not how the Fuher would say,
Under this badge, I'm looking for a brighter day.
Before this is over, I know there will be tears,
I'll face strong evil, be gripped by fears.
I'll hold tight to courage, I'll hold tight to faith,
While watching the stars I'll try to find strength.
But one thing I know without shadows of doubt:
Hope is a star that will never fade out.