Bosnian+Concentration+Camp+Poem

//The Concentration Camp// It's cold and damp in this room we are in, We feel as if our souls are meant for hell. They throw us in place in our large mass graves, We all feel like trash being thrown away, But in this place no one can see the light, We fight for food and we fight for water, We fight too live and we fight not to die.

We understand we must take control now, Let's see where we can get if we do try. We still wish for help from the outside world, But it's in our hands now; we have to fight, We bowed down to their commands far too long, Its time to watch them crumble to pieces.

The Serbians will finally fall down, And Bosnians will be free from their rein.