She saw hope, while we saw the cramped attic

She felt confidence that we would make it out, while we felt the coldness of the air.

She sees the light in a dark room, while we see the darkness.

She heard the laughter of the children, while we heard the hate of the Nazi’s

The Germans would come, and we thought we had to run. 

1942, asking if we will be in the attic forever,

Or grow up a regular child?

would we be able to ever have freedom in what we believed in?

for 2 years: listening to the cold, war filled air like a harsh and bloody affair.

Touching Peter's hand, smooth and silky sand.

As a jewish folk, we quietly spoked.

We silently screamed for freedom.

Not allowed to be a free child, 

Not allowed to throw away anything,

Are we allowed to do anything?

We had the temptations to run away, 

But would they find us and take us away on a train?

The shadows of the attic stare at us

Every morning we wake up with the sun howling

Asking, will we make it another day?

Every night the sun sets,

Giving us a chance to beat Hitler’s unfair game

Hope to make it out alive,

Courage to keep going,

Bravery to stay silent,

We all had hope, 

But Anne had power