Anne Frank Huis

what might life be

in waiting

for the sun to shine 

on your face,

for the rain to soak your skin,

for the wind

to burn 

your cheeks and tousle your hair?

what might life be 

when living with the curtains drawn

in darkness

waiting

and waiting

to know the war will end

and that you

will have the chance 

of seeing your loved ones again?