It's True, Heshie

 Erie when they collided with our vision

But the more in did they usher.

Nowhere but war's fog would obscure our research

And it not merely lent the cover.

I worked for the Third Reich

I worked for mankind.

Our relationship carried no desire

Our relation was signed.

I, it was not, who declared myself Hebrew

Casual assumptions placed by the lot of you.

Faith, it was not, that kept me in my seat

Fascination to those entranced in biblical feat.

Wreathed around my talent, they left no spare privilege

But scientific discovery.

While undecided, I lent those you know no less fruitful a fate

Furthering psychology.

These seats, tailored in the finest linen

You would be willing to rubify?

My hair, kept proper for hours countless

You would deliberately stupefy?

But I knew there would be close hatred

Which is why I sit in Germany still.

But seated not am I in another chapel

These walls resounding a symphony saturated.

On that podium stands Eugen Jochum,

Below this balcony.

The piece belonging to Carl Orff's composition,

“Carmina Burana”.

Out of virtue hundreds have gathered here

A Colosseum is preferable to this occasion?

A trumpet's innards never this undisturbed

Nothing boils or brews within yours?

Later you, certainly, would face ramification

Take this chance to reconsider.

The conductor, honorably, serves the recording

This moment proper for a hero's splendor.

Silence among us hasn't contributed a cure,

To the piece “When We're In The Tavern” I felt sure.

Absolutely it would feel better to swing

Than to selfishly clench the spring.

But you must feel so righteous and bold

With that slingshot you hold.

Author's Note

I basically never write poems. This is for my writing class, and I felt it was done fairly well - but I'm not too knowledgeable. If you have any tips or opinions, I'd gladly hear them.