Generations of Pain – My Visit to a German Nazi Death Camp

by Melody Jean

deathcamp2I visited Bergen-Belsen Nazi Concentration Camp in Germany.

I’ve few words other than what I pen here, and below.

My family was lost to the whims of the Nazis, as were so many others. While I’m not religious considering myself ‘of the spirit;’ their persecution takes generations to heal.

I struggled whether to take pictures, but thought it important for those who may never see a Nazi death camp. I share a few choice ones.

Some solace was seeing just one beautiful rose bush among the Polish/Russian mass graves. My grandma’s name was Rose; we are Polish/Russian decent.

Anne Frank passed here, too.

May all who perished rest in peace. I share …

“Just Another Number”

You were just another number
another body, another bone.
Your name didn’t matter;
they stole you from your home.

You were nobody’s mother, brother,
sister or father; just another number.
A nuisance, you were a bother.

I touch the mass grave
to try to connect with your soul.
Yet, somehow knowing
your light’s embedded in my core.

I paused to take my shoes off
to feel mother earth beneath my feet.
For it’s the ground you last walked upon
and now your shell lay beneath.

Yes, they used you for what they could
before your body would go no longer.
Being of my bloodline I can bet
you were a fighter.

Your courage, strength and
perseverance undoubtedly lives on.
Generations later
it’s entrenched in our bones.

The atrocity you endured
was so incredibly unjust.
I feel your deep sorrow
as I stand upon your dust.

I pray upon the grave
to release you from your pain
so you may soar alive and free
and rest in peace like summer rain.

No, you are not just another number;
you are my family, don’t you see?
What you lived and suffered
is the reason today we are free.

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