Race - Karen Gershon

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Karen Gershon


When I returned to my home town

believing that no one would care

who I was and what I thought

it was as if the people caught

an echo of me everywhere

they knew my story by my face

and I who am always alone

became a symbol of my race


Like every living Jew I have

in imagination seen

the gas-chamber the mass-grave

the unknown body which was mine

and found in every German face

behind the mask the mark of Cain

I will not make their thoughts my own

by hating people for their race