childhood&old age it is the same,

spiritually it is the same stage,
soulfully it is the same state,
just
one it is at the beginning, opens the dance, &
the other is at the end finishes the dance,

that is why the physical body doesn't matter, it does not,
as even the psychology returns back&becomes again the same,
a common ground,  


the same innocent thoughts, the same pure desires,
to be loved&cared for,
the same hope, joy, and playing in the grass,
it is the same

childhood&old age & we just want to be done,
done
to play adults&claim to  be the rulers of the world

A young disciple of discipline is just,
trying to dissipate negative traits.
Hesitations of change are often in frame
but most balloons don't fly straight.
Instead there's the choice of multiple fates,
played upon through invisible games.
Who is listening, we're nowhere near finished yet, when the drifter remains in stages to claim.

Draw upon those who have taught you before, are these new lessons or echoes restored in repetition.
Persistent tricks formed from stubborn habits, hidden in-kind to the back of our brains, where a complete disregard is often retained.
Try observing yourself through the eyes of others, are you sure we're the same when shuffling states.

O' brother
    Today is the anniversary
    of the day you were born
    But Fear not
    for I have a Present
    It is a cake obviously
    Never doubt me
    never
    Either way
    cake
    For you should feed your Gluttony
    And though I ate nine-tenths of the cake
    you still ate
    O how kind I am
    How much more Retribution
    truth
    But I am higher of that
    Regarded as Saint
    that is what kindness I have


    O' brother
    I write to you today
    for my anniversary of the day
    I died came
    I have seen a ******
    I have seen a robbery
    I have seen the cruelty of humanity
    But all I am and is a bystander
    who keeps His Head down
    With mediocrity
    and hypocrisy
    Ego dominant
    while the Id is miniscule
    Either way
    It seems that
    I can't show my kindness no more


    O' mineself
    I have a confession
    I may see the trash
    out of all the trash
    and though the foggy mirror
    blurs it
    I Still See
    Mineself
    For even though
    I have saved a kittens life
    I have saved a boys life
    I have saved a girls life
    I have saved an adults life
    I have saved my ego
    I have saved my Id
    How more trash could I be
    I can't say sorry
    no
    I can only say that I am no more
    a saint
    a bystander
    just the trashiest
    of all trash

Creeping frost

Cold and hard

As charity or jewellers knives

Which melts and quickly turns to flame

The *** that boils

Magnesium hot

Phoenix bright

Cold tears

Sticky with regret

Which sooth and calm

Balm for the soul

Beneath the skin

And healing can begin

There are seven stages of grief
The first being denial
We deny that we are here
In this hell on Earth
We deny that some of our family members have been taken into the hands of death
We deny that we went through what we went through
In hopes that we will forget it ever happened
The second is the pain
The pain comes when it finally hits
Your family is dead
You will never be that same happy kid as you once were
The happy-go-lucky kid you were before the camps
The realization that your body will never work the same way
The next is anger
The frustration you have been holding back
Not at the Nazis or the Germans
You are frustrated at yourself
You are mad at yourself for being in that situation
You do not know why you are mad at yourself
But you refuse to place the blame anywhere else
The next stage is depression
The hole in your heart where your happiness used to lain
The realization that you are now by yourself and there is no one who will understand you anymore
No one will speak the language that us survivors speak
No matter how good of a therapist you are
It is a foreign language only select few speak
There is another stage we went through
The upward turns
The realization that you will be ok
You realize that you do not need your family to be ok
You do not need anyone who survived with you
You only need yourself
And that is all you have
There is another stage
This being particularly the hardest
It is working in an everyday life
With your new setbacks and PTSD
The new you starts to work properly
There is one more stage
It is acceptance
You finally accept what happened
You accept the fact that everything that you went through
Is not fiction
It is real life
You accept the fact that we went through inhumane treatments and tortures
And we accept all of it
We realize and accept that we were almost all killed off
Weather by sickness or ******
We accept we were the lucky ones
And never look back

I won’t lie.
Once those eyes met mine,
I imagined.
When I watched you run your hands through your hair multiple times,
I daydreamed.
But when I saw that genuine smile and laugh you gave once I made you laugh,
I fell.

it's crazy to think
some people's lives just started
some people's lives just ended
all over the world.
a celebration of life has begun
a mourning of death has begun.
no matter your age
no matter what stage of life,
everyone's still learning.
experiencing
healing
growing
making mistakes
maturing.
sure some have it easier than others
sure some have it harder than others
but in the end,
we have the chance to live
to live as in to be present.
we are here on this earth
while others aren't
recognize your opportunity
to be.