Today, I realized why people need to go find themselves; they are lost.
How they have lost something within themselves, their past, a time of innocence.
As they need to take time to get away from this, our mundane existence.
Their need to reassess their goals and their future lies in a self they lost.
Seldom do people need to get far, far away unless on vacation.
Helpless from the get-go, we humans are hapless, lacking in good fortune.
Even Adam and Eve were burdened with bad faith, their small demographic.
Desperate souls deserve fine accommodations, better than the cold streets.
Ever in our presence, they lose sight of our love, fly beneath our radar.
Absence creates distance, proximity... closeness, time takes understanding.
Remember, I lost you when I knocked at your door, you disappeared for good.
Shining stars in darkness, empty in the night sky, the light travels lifetimes.
Horrible your absence, our friendship ends in tears, I lost you forever.
Even though people die, you didn't have to go, your problems weren't so bad.
Maybe I could help you still by helping others in your predicament.
I never understood why you left, took your life, still I knock on your door.
Generosity grants the opportunity to take care of others.
How we care for others displays our gratitude, our strength of character.
Take solace in sorrow that everyone suffers, some are less fortunate.
To think we lose focus, some of us lose ourselves, what is our place on earth?
Anger distracts our minds trapping us in trauma, a past we can't forget.
Kiss the long days goodbye, summer turns to autumn, autumn turns to winter.
Emptiness in our hearts, when generosity ceases, we show contempt.
Sickness is quite normal, normal people become neglectful of others.
Obviously, healthy people enjoy sickness, outside the hospital.
Maybe an asylum, is where I found myself, the sorrow of others.
Emotions, I sustain the trauma of childhood but not the innocence.
Pleasure, to take pleasure in other's suffering, witness schadenfreude.
Little did I know then, my brother and cousin warped the rest of my life.
Even if I could help others, I am broken, I feel ugly inside.
As limitations end claims of wrongdoing stop the victims in their tracks.
Suffer, suffer, suffer the little children, pain, trauma and suffering.
Understanding my pain makes sense of their torture, their laughter and my tears.
Remember, I am dead, I died as a small boy, I died of heartlessness.
Even if I'm alive, I am a walking corpse, alive and well, undead.
Offer restitution for injury and loss, restore my innocence.
Forget the fact, time stopped, time stands still for me still, I wait to make a move.
Monsters create our minds, our minds create monsters, imagine hell on earth.
Yet, I'm not a monster though I lost my soul, then and accepted my role.
Perpetrators suffer in their isolation, they play a role as well.
As I search for myself, as a middle-aged man, I remain lost, so lost.
I believe no one cares, I became the scapegoat in my family, my role.
No one knows what happened in that room way back when but I remember pain.
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