I can remember people strolling down the damp streets
The smell soup gliding in the wind, what a sweet mixture
Potatoes and parsley tickling your nose
People wrapped up in torn shawls waiting in line, but content they were.
I can remember the clattering of teeth, the movement of lips
The expressions of ideas, so different in all,
No one was afraid to criticize, to call out.
People had a somber mood, no doubt about that.
But it was better than what was to come.
It was so much better.

I can remember the end of ‘29.
The dismal fall of our state, of our home.
Suddenly my walls were painted with bills of despair,
A cruel reminder of our payment that we can’t pay.
Since the Weltkrieg, I was told to hate those Amis.
They destroyed our Economy, and I know they wish they didn’t
Because in that vacuum arose a grim beginning
And in ‘33 our world as we knew was to crumble at our weak feet.
But I can remember the future was foggy, so we decided to walk forward,
Yet that walk was instead a sprint to ultimate death of ideas,
And a sprint to the death of peace.

I can remember the deterioration of our lives and freedom.
Nothing was being spoken of the crimes we were committing.
Our friends were being hauled away to not be seen again,
But they were not our friends, they were only to blame, we thought.
I can remember the bitter september of  ‘39
When we took our east neighbor’s home and called it our own.
Not knowing what we had started, we trudged forward
Handing 20 year olds by the millions gas masks and guns.
But they could not ward off the sins yet to become.

I can remember hating our deeds,
It went against every good and heartful moral.
My words were to suffocate in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course I was.
The harassment and suffering that would follow
Would be so emance I would lose all hope
Of a life that was worth living,
If I still had one.

I can remember the clearing of the smoke and gas,
The rising sun of September ‘45, a gleaming metal of promise.
And we ran out to the streets and cheered on our loss.
For our loss was our liberation, our emancipation.
And while our state layed dispersed and in ruins,
We were more put together than ever before.
Yet all good things must come to an end, don’t they.
And Berlin was cut and split once more.

I can remember the change in my street,
Named after that soviet hero, known as Marx.
His named controlled the Allee, and it was the farthest we could go,
Until the officers shoved us and forced us to turn around.
They say the sun rises on the east, but it really only shines on the west.
And this lack of sun drove our leaders fridged.
Calling for a blanket to insulate us in.

I can remember how cold it became in ‘61
The year our ‘needed’ blanket was made.
155 kilometers it spat on the pure soil of our destroyed home.
And when my neighbor tried to cross it, he was shot down
Blood of a friend tattooing the wall, ink spilling over like a broken pen.
Writing the grim truth of our situation, the lies trickling as a river.
If I could of protest it, I would of, but all those who did didn’t last long.
And if the hand on the trigger was not to pull it,
Gulags were to be our next home.

I can remember hating his deeds,
It went against every good and heartful moral.
My words were to suffocate in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course I was.
The harassment and suffering that would follow
Would be so emance I would lose all hope
Of a life that was worth living,
If I still had one.

“...Open this gate! ...Tear down this wall!”
The words flowed past the barrier into our ears.
A second liberation, a second emancipation.
Please freedom, please drag us by our head and force us to stand.
Let us stand with our brothers and stand until our knees buckle.
I can remember the arms around me, the arms of my lost son.
Pulling me up from the depths of the east, until I was standing on the wall.
The crowd cheering beneath us and cheering beside us.
Free, this is free, I am free, we are free.
But nothing lasts forever.

Many years later, many years have gone through time
My memories linger, dancing in circles
Reminding me of the pain and suffering we went through
To figure out what it means to be us.
I can remember the days when everything seemed lost.
I can remember the days when we were a disgrace
A mistake in world’s code, an horrific accident that was never meant to happen
But time has fading upon itself
For a brief moment we knew who we were.
And then we remembered all that has been done in our name
Now we insist on cleaning ourselves.

Destroy us. Rid us of all things that make us us.
Vacate the room of all bad, and get rid of all good too.
Nothing shall remain of us. Nothing good can last in our name.
At least that's what they want me to think, but I can’t and I won't.
I lay here, alone, abandoned, dying against my will.
My words suffocating in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course am I.
Silence is what keeps me alive.

I can remember being told to be silent
My mother whispering in my ear, “I know, Don’t say it.”
“If they hear you, you could be sent away.”
I can remember disclosing to my son through the thin black wire
“I can’t say it, they can hear it, and I would sent away.”
And now I lay in the skin of the scared man I have always been
Too afraid to fight back, too afraid to say my truth.
Unable to alter the past, and no control over the future.
No one is here to listen to the wise, to listen to those
Who have suffered through forced silence twice over.
But we are Germans, silencing is what we do.