You could have been my teacher
You could have been the mother of my best friend
You could have been the midwife who helped deliver me
You could have been my dentist
You could have been a waitress in my favourite restaurant
You could have been a lady working in a shoo who wraps my gifts
You could have been working behind the bar in my local pub
You could have been the first woman on the moon.
You could have been anything you wanted to
But some people thought you were not a valuable member of society
In fact they didn’t think you were anything.
They thought you were an impurity not worthy to live
Someone who would blemish their pure Aryan race.
You had to be removed from this world
And that they did on February 11 1944, in Auschwitz they killed you, aged 4.
You are Frieda Marianne…
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Dirk, those are beautiful words.
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