THE ROSE GARDEN

Neuengamme, under the German SS command
Took twenty children there, from the Auschwitz camp.
There were ten girls, ten boys, all younger than twelve
Bullenhauser Damm, was another place, another hell.

Their locks shaven off, no hair to comb through
No tears did they shed, too scared to even move.
The youngest, age five, she was of Pole descent
Oldest were twelve, Polish, Yugoslavian, and French.

Huddled together in the darkness, naked, and cold
War-torn brick building, lies the horror, secret untold.
There were doctors who injected them, bacteria, TB
Medical experiments, disease ravaged their bodies.

Toward the end of war, they had to cover their crime
There was no gas to give them, there wasn't much time.
So while they lay sleeping, one by one, carried below
In the basement, they hanged them, like war criminals.

Remembrance of these children, so innocent, yet brave
The rose garden was planted, to scent the murders away.
Photographs, sealed in marble, for all the world to see
Weeping willow sheds her tears, and bows prayerfully.

Benches surround the walkway, to reflect on each child
Imagining what life was then, their big eyes, big smile.
Take time to smell the roses, treasured beauty that it holds
Count your blessings everyday, remember these twenty souls.

Author:
Lucille aka [email protected] copyright�2002