Its not always obvious, but there are subtle reminders.
We get lost in our egos, its hard to recognize us.
Just because your struggles are seen, and mine seem easier to hide.
The illusion doesn’t escape me, always sitting in the back of my mind.
No better am I for where I am,
one simple shift in the world and I could be that starved and begging man.
When I look into your eyes, sharing what I can.
I know better than to judge,
Oh how quickly I could be where you stand.
About the Creator
Shelbie Rolland
An aspiring author trying to share the magic of the worlds my mind creates.
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Lives I've Lived
I've never understood humanities irrational fear of death. The obsessive need to believe death is something that can be wrangled or broken like the spirit of an animal into submission. An inevitability that is capable of being outwitted to the point of complete avoidance. People battle with the concept of death as if it doesn't slowly lurch towards all of us with every step we take and every breath we are allowed to experience. In my 30 years I've had the honor of walking with death twice. I like to think of us as close friends or comrades-in-arms. People see death as a defeat or a battle lost. Like it's some form of chaotic violence that needs controlling. The idea is like a fly trying to stop us semitruck as it roars down the freeway going 60 miles an hour. Death is an inescapable truth, a finish line to the marathon of this existence in which we call life. In my experience death is gentle and kind. That unique moment when a butterfly chooses you. When you feel it land softly on your skin like a whisper. A gentle wind felt in between each flutter of its wings. Death should not invoke fear, but an appreciation for the time life has allowed you to live. There is beauty in death.
By Shelbie Rolland4 years ago in Fiction
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