Hiding; writing in the candlelight,











Her blood put her in a state of fright.

Twas not anything she did or said,



But rather the race in which she was bred.

Alert; constantly looking for signs,




The fearsome Nazis held their lines.

Peter, Peter the girl was in love,
Before she had to be hidden above
An innocent girl, just like the rest,
But Hitler’s power, no one would test.
After being taken, her diary was found,
Miep Gies planned to return when she came ‘round.

Fallen sick while in the camp,
The cells were constantly dirty and damp.
The diseases overtook the little girl’s strength,
Her courage helped her last for a length.
Her diary was a piece of art,
The voice of the lost; she touched our hearts.