through quarters cramped

I've been to some death-camps and seen some mass graves into which were hurled chucked tossed innocent slaves; I've stood in the oven rooms smelling their reek and wandered through quarters cramped barren and bleak. The stories and tales of Survivors I've heard; did soak lap and sponge up each soft quiet word; did stand before mountains of shoes and shorn locks; did witness the stolen gold teeth and arm-clocks. I've been to Jerusalem's own Yad Vashem, examined the causes from which hatred stems, examined the lessons that our past imparts and struggled to understand cold callous hearts. This world we now live in is once again filled with racist small-minded and misguided swill – we see it in Europe and in the U. States where there are hot heated and brutal debates. These are though concerning the Islamic creed and ask if for tolerance there is still need and ask if the people who've made it their own should be whipped and murdered or just left alone. I know not the answers, my mind is too small, my intellect lacking in due wherewithal, I will though say one thing then leave well alone: Let he who's not sinned pick and cast the first stone.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥