Anne, oh pitiful Anne,

Into hiding you ran

When World War II began

Dark, still and cold

Was the annex you lived in, for the time being

Wildly your imagination danced

To make the annex a dreamland

Writing had inspired you

Not to give up, but to push through

But the Nazis caught you,

You and the few others

Who laughed and played and sang

If only you had been kept hidden

In the annex for a little more time

You would have been set free

Liberated

By the Americans

Bergen Belsen was your deathbed

There was nothing to be said

Nothing to be done

But to pray to God that

One day, Hitler’s death would come