Abigail Scimeca earned second place in the statewide Nova Southeastern University Holocaust Reflection contest with her poem The Everlasting Violinist.

The Everlasting Violinist

He plays his violin at night

It frees him from the daily fright

Yet those notes he plays on the dusty page

Makes them happy, but fills him with rage

A human puppet playing his soul

He remembers his life before it took a toll

His family, the songs once filled him with joy

Now he's playing for demons like their personal toy

Escaping through the music he creates

Going to another world, but it is to late

The fear is too loud to ever escape

He has no room left to even hate

Bow up bow down, play until he dies

For his god is gone, and there is no reason to cry

The chamber will take him, and it won't take long

Until he becomes a thought just like his hopeless song

And now I play the same four strings

Because the joy this instrument brings

And then a tear runs down my face

That joy was once with him, but it was replaced

He knew he would die, he knew they could win

But deep inside there was light growing from his violin

now I'm here and I play for him

And I share with you all his everlasting hymn