I fell silent to the irony of the German Mercedes,
What was it like?
But, I thought, I can never ever place me.
The long and windy roads,
The pine and oak trees covered in snow,
We must be close,
No, we weren't, we still had many miles to go.
As we approached the site,
Everyone, everything was in slow motion,
The faces, the cars, the roads,
Until, we reached the location.
The emptiness, the coldness the eeriness,
Even today, in the air there is a smell,
It was different to anything I have smelt before,
I knew for certain, I was in a place like hell.
As we moved towards the gate,
Already equipped with our yellow stickers,
I felt disorientated and alone,
And even though I was not a prisoner,
The place made me feel like I was one.
The barbed wire,
The registration building,
Forever I will remember,
What I saw, felt, smelled and touched,
The trip was personal to me,
And, I experienced so much.
Arbeit Macht Frei,
Work makes you free,
If only they had known,
If only we knew, then it might have come true.