Alici Maria Kuberska
I eat grass.
It grows on land scorched by shells.
I swallow sand.
I am like all those
who died in line for flour.
Flour and sand,
grass and wheat
so alike, yet so different.
I cry from hunger, despair, helplessness.
No one hears me, no one sees.
I live in a city of the dead.
Millions of glass eyes watch me
indifferent and cruel.
A screen of glass separates two worlds:
the safe one, anchored in comfort,
and the open-air concentration camp.
Stone hearts,
blind eyes,
silent mouths
the fed will never understand the starving.
With my last breath,
I will scream the truth
fearless, it will shatter the glass world.