A day to remember...- By: Christopher Warren

When I was a boy some days ago;
I tended the fields and played with glee;
I lived on a farm on ground so low;
I heard the people shout, Nazis, flee!

We hurriedly packed and made our way;
We rushed down the road on our old cart.
I heard the shouts as the line gave way;
And still the shells blew brave men apart;

I still remember that horrid day;
We took the road throughout day and night;
When good men died, tyranny at bay;
Scores of others follow and took flight;

We finally saw the coast and ships;
The St. Louis her name, ne’er forget;
They rationed us food and water, sipped;
I heard the people, the new life bet;

After a week at sea, a storm found;
We arrived in Cuba and sought land;
To our surprise, we thought ourselves bound;
Though gunboat secure, some dared reach sand;

We then sailed north, gunboat e’er present;
But King refused, tried to justify;
I thought, because I am a peasant;
We pleaded to his immoral lie;

I stand today to say with passion;
There is no land of free, only ration;