XLVI Rochus Misch
I wonder how that Nazi bunker smelled;
The maniacs alive yet in their graves;
Whilst Lugers to each others' heads they held.
You were the last of Fuhrerbunker's knaves.
Just you and Goebbels, marching 'round like slaves;
You watched them kill their children in their beds;
Egomaniacy the mind depraves.
Why did you not shoot Hitler in the head?
It's true, of course, you would have wound up dead,
But could have made your martyrdom sublime.
I guess your death, to you, was quite a dread.
You could have killed him at an earlier time.
You didn't try to do what heroes do.
So are the Goebbels children haunting you?
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