late night poetry

On the tracks i lay like a animal all dead and grey
they dumped me there to rot with the others who had
been shot. All the lice in are hair we didn't deserve the
the frozen ice we had to bear, many not old enough to stand
still we got the cold shoulder of hitlers right hand. It was not
because we comited a crime nor because we were in the war. why
they left my body out there to turn blue was because i was a jew.