Silent Attic, by Ruby

Silent Attic

The Franks hide in the attic, silently.

They’re Jewish and they are very proud to be.

Margo is the oldest. Perfect and smart.

Anne is younger, and more a work of art.

The Vaan Daams are up with them, their son Peter too,

And also, his cat, who doesn’t have a clue.

All day they must be quiet.

No one make a sound.

While they listen to sirens, wailing all around.

The outside world, they hardly remember.

They just hope they’ll be out by December.

Anne always dreams of flowers and grass.

She writes in her journal to help time pass.

That journal got filled with her sweet words and feelings.

All of her stories, all of her dealings.

Her journal, now, is a published book,

That Anne once wrote in her own little nook.

So many people have cried about her words,

Her emotions, her feelings, even her want to be a bird.

Even though she had to be silent, she had all of those precious words.

Ruby Dopp p. 1

This Land Is Your Land, This Land Is My Land

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

-The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus