I walk beside the prisoners to the road.
Load on puffed load,
Their corpses, stacked like sodden wood,
Lie barred or galled with blood
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It's difficult to write directly about the horrors of the concentration camps of the Nazi holocaust. The poem is powerful, but perhaps the poet is a little too close to events to create perfect poetry, and a few lines are poetically flat and too factual.
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It's difficult to write directly about the horrors of the concentration camps of the Nazi holocaust. The poem is powerful, but perhaps the poet is a little too close to events to create perfect poetry, and a few lines are poetically flat and too factual.