They do not see me


It isn�t enough THEY want us all to die; THEY can�t let us die in peace.

Someone in here tells THEM all about what we do and say.

Sometimes, I even think THEY know what I think.

We are an enduring people, having suffered for so long and at so many hands, one more oppressor seems insignificant.

And yet, THEY seem to need us to not exist.

How can anyone want to do away with all of us?

Still THEY do.

How can we believe that some of our own kind might want to help THEM do it?

WE do not see the person.

So we look to see who remains fully fed, when everyone else grows thin.

We even look at people we loved and used to trust with new suspicion.

Is my brother or mother or sister the one who tells THEM about us?

We look into each other�s eyes, trying to make out some shadow of deceit.

All we see is the empty hope of people destined to die.

Yet � someone tells THEM.

Someone barters our lives for their own, perhaps even foolishly believing THEY will keep THEIR part of the bargain, when like Satan, THEY never do.

Who is it that tells THEM, I ask my elders as they ask me?

How can I ever admit to anyone that the person we are all looking for is me?



Because some professional actors said they could not use the work unless they were published; I have finally published these monologues and others -- and these are available at This collection includes other material not originally available on this site -- slightly over 40 monologues.
Holocaust Monologues: the real and the unreal

Holocaust monologues

Main Menu

email to Al Sullivan