Josh Lyndon

February 9th, 1992, Belfast
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If this is a man

A man who commited no crime,
Yet forced to do the hardest time.
They shaved his head,
Gave him straw for a bed.
There was something special they knew,
But he was a convicted jew.
The nazi's seeked to destroy,
Primo Levi the geniouse boy.
Sent to work in the cold all day.
Not a bad word would he say.
He survived out of pride
and took it all in his stride.
Threw all the indignition,
He never forgot his posistion.
With the number tattoed on his arm,
By the germans who only mean harm.
He barterd his food,
With those who fought and brood.
Alas! finaly! liberation came!
But poor Primo was never the same.
He had nightmares that plauge his sleep,
Of unfair guilt he chose to keep.
The acclaimed chemist could handle it no more,
He could no longer live with the pain he bore.
Italy's hero finaly slain.
His memory lives on - it was not in vain.
Primo Levi look to the sky and see.
Go home and rest you are finaly free.
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