We were oppressed for our heritage,

Not for who we were - 

Because of our features:

Brown eyes as pensive as coffee grounds

Before being crushed and beaten,

And hair, as dark as the future

That swung warily before us,

We saw Fate closing its doors

We were distraught upon arrival

At the tangible smell of Death,

That hung in the air

As stagnantly as the potency

Of perfume

 We were encumbered,

At the first glimpse of

Those showers, with the

Weight of all the corpses

That now lay mutely aside

We were kept - captives -

 From one dawn until another dusk,

To be drilled on what a nuisance

Our abiding presence was

To the outside

We were limited

Inside that metal fencing,

As we died under the rushing forcefulness

Of gas

And hatred