Another student chose to write as if he were the Emanuel Ringelblum milk can (a hidden archive from the Warsaw Ghetto) that has not been found. This student struggled a bit with language arts, but the simplicity of his poem is touching.
___________________________________________
We Had to Tell Them Everything
In Memory of Emanuel Ringelblum

As I lie
Beneath the ground
Very lonely
Always a frown

My rusting body
When it rains
Filled with history
Of Jews on trains

The other two
Have been dug up
But I am still here
With moles and grubs

They haven’t found me
I hope they will
I am a milk can
In the moonlight still
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The final example is one of the most poignant. This was one of those students who did well, but to whom her good grades did not come without a lot of work. Once she decided to write as if she were a shoe, she became very committed to her poem, constantly writing and rewriting– frequently checking with me to see if she was on the right track. I can still see her bent over her desk with such intent, a serious look on her face as she struggled to make her thoughts come together. I remember that she was the only student who had to take her poem home after two days of work in the classroom. She finally felt that she had done her best, and, although I could see some of those problems I mentioned at the beginning (for example, one of her verses has only three lines when all the others have four and there are rhythm problems) I was extremely moved by her poem. I knew that she had entered that mysterious connection through her work, and I had no intention of having her lose that moment by having to rework it once again. She certainly has that “moment” at the end.