Pain will ache

just like

a

torn heart

(Love will set

It) but

pain

wont ease

(Love will hide

hurt) Pain

will

crumble

Fall apart

(While love

will

conquer)

Pain is inert

not gone

(Love

goes on)

I was born in Amsterdam, Holland,

 A survivor from Auschwitz the camp.

Sent in 1943,

Where they did experiments on me.

I was to either sign or be killed,

Against my own freewill.

I believe I chose the wrong one,

But alas the signing was done.

I was injected 24 times,

But wasn’t that a crime?

I always thought it would be better,

If I would have let myself die.

After more than two years,

All in the past were our fears.

The Soviet Army had found,

The weak unable to make a sound.

Like a thief in the night I snuck across a river,

To save my friend from dying.

We had finally made it,

Among the tears and crying.

Current Mood: sad

       My version of a poem by Margaret Walker

For My People

For my people the true beauties who wander through life finding a place where they belong, being who they are meant to be and always taking a chance to live every moment as their last.

For my people whose power is shown in many ways, the ones who never fear to stand up and fight their way through the battle, who when they get knocked down always find a way up again.

For my people the loving and kind, who always give a helping hand to those in need, the ones who hug you when you’re down and make sure every thing’s alright, the people who care about you most in life.

For my people the most unique of them all, wearing wild and crazy outfits that no one seems to get, talking about random things that always make you laugh, the ones who always seem to get the most out of life.

For my people the best friends in the world, the ones in life that make everything worth while, and always seem to put a smile on your face, yes these are my true friends the ones who make each day better than the last.