Dear Anne Frank,
I wept at your diary, Anne,
And should I read it again
Your plight, I'd sorrow still.
A beast was loosed in Germany
That purged your people from their promised land,
And brought you pain and death;
-While the world,
Not knowing,
Went quietly on its way-
But now I've been a pilgrim, Anne.
To a not so Holy Land,
Granted to survivors
Who did deserve a promised place called home.
While there I heard the piteous stories
Of other dispossessed;
Called from homes in dark of night,
Bound, driven to a distant border,
Dumped, and never seen again.
I've seen the fear in children's eyes,
Watched them schooled behind barbed wire
Within the range o zionist guns.
Oh Anne, that yours should do to others
What has been done to them;
-While the whole world,
Not knowing,
Went quietly on its way-
