Night

In 9th or 10th grade, I read the book Night by Elie Wiesel. If you haven't read it, I recommend it. It's about Wiesel's experience surviving the concentration camps. His story really touched me and I wrote this poem:

I used to think the night was short
back when sleep
overcame me the
moment
my head hit the cottoncloudlike pillow
back when dreams were
accompanied by sunshine sonatas
with visions of chocolate palaces and marshmallow beds
The hours flowed by unnoticed like a soft
stream in the woods until
all of a sudden
it would be
morning

but

now i know better
now i know how long the
night really is
now i know that each
hour is composed of sixty miserable minutes
which are formed by sixty
excruciating seconds
and in each second an eternity elapses
my nights are spent
sleepless
in this
hell
where mercy graces no one
where death lingers like fog in the city
where there is
no God
in every eternalsecond
i’m reminded that my days are numbered
that at any moment they
could choose me
as the next number to
die
but what i fear the most
is not death or
laborious days with no food
no what makes me shiver with trepidation in every bit of my being
is
surviving