Death

It starts on the streets,
Once friendly neighbors,
Rat each other out,
Only for acceptance.

There is no longer friendship,
There is only distrust.
On the streets,
Survival is key.

You hear rumors,
Of raids on families,
Who you once had dinner with.
They were harboring a fugitive.

In the camp,
The fear of death,
Keeps everyone wary,
And that’s the way they like it.

Hunger,
Pain,
Loss,
Was the order of the camps.

But in some,
There was still hope,
Hope that it would all end,
That they would be rescued.

But for most,
It didn’t happen,
Rescue did not come,
Only more death.

Some hid,
While others fled,
But still,
Hope remained.