Neuengamme

There is a sculpture in a garden of emaciated pain.  It is built to make you feel (manufacture pain) in order to help you remember that which occurred on these grounds.  It makes you wonder (can you hear those screams?) how the atrocities that occurred, occurred.  There is no explanation or answers to be found (staring at a stationary sculpture that never felt pain).  The ghosts live elsewhere, Bullenhauser (a school meant for learning) where twenty tiny souls (hung to cover the agressors shame) hung.  There is no sculpture there.  No one cares to look at children in emaciated pain.  You stand there at Neuengamme (never realizing the truth) at the emaciated adult, and call him hero.

When I was  younger I worked with the USHF on Holocaust Remberance and would do dramatic interpretations of real survivors stories.  I write and have been inspired so much by what has happened but I never really share my work because I feel it can’t match with what they went through but I share this because perhaps it’s the poem I’ve put the most heart into.