Dandelions.
Dandelions cover the fields where people begged for their lives, tried to escape, or were even murdered. Wishes and promises that didn’t happen. It’s almost sickening how peaceful this place is now. We sat under the trees, listening to the birds, watching the deer eat grass, but yet I feel guilty for feeling at peace. The ground I am standing on is where people lost their lives. I shouldn’t feel at peace knowing what happened back then. They weren’t at peace when they were tortured, starved, and killed. We walk around in the blistering heat and I want to complain, but I can’t because they went through worse than this. This is nothing. I see people stop and pose for pictures in front of the “Arbeit Macht Frei” and the big building in front of the train tracks. I feel like it’s wrong and it should be a place to remember. Not a place for touristy Instagram pictures. We remember the people who lost their lives, the good and evil, but most importantly we don’t forget what happened.
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