In a small town adjacent to sea,
While walking and enjoying a brew,
I came across a market flea
Where old was being sold as new.

There were clothes of all types,
There was food of every cuisine,
However, one beautiful diary in stripes
Was something which I had never seen.

Some pages were filled, some blank,
A record of someone from a distant past. 
Narrative story of a man named Frank
Depicting something which was never asked.

It was about the life of a man,
Who never spoke or talked.
So he writes everything he can,
Screaming the words that are locked.

The pain was real, it was deep,
Inability to express all that he felt,
Despite being awake he felt asleep,
A silent life which he had dealt.

Something about him made me cry, 
How hard it must have been.
That diary speaks of his goodbye,
Frank, the dumb of Berlin.