Understanding Works Only When It’s Understood

It’s not poetry, but something to think.
I always thought to myself ’ why my loved ones don’t understand me’?
I always cried with Self-Defense and nurturing my own saddest space of self-contained pity.
I couldn’t find an answer on how to deal with an enormous amount of pain.
Which became my tragedy of this life. I couldn’t find a solution from my doctor or my relationship.
My relationship sucked, I became a complete drug addict going nowhere and with no solution.
Holding my breath once, I thought this would be my last attempt to make my life better.
Wondering if I don’t work, nobody else is going to work on it. It appeared to be longer days and night went shorter.
I picked up a book to read, to kill my time and escape from my disappointment lifestyle. A note caught my attention.
Which changed my entire life.
A Father tells his best friend that his son does not understand him. After a long breath, his friends spoke ’how well you have understood your own son’?
This changed my life upside down for the better and making complete sense.
We can’t love all, but with loved ones, we always complain fight there doesn’t understand us.
But how well or even given a minute thinking why do they behave like this. How well we have understood them in our lives?.
Everybody is suffering from inside. We all need help and support to be loved?

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  • Sangavi
  • Being In Love is Being in the second life of the fantasy; I keep myself drunk in poems where I live a life of all the poets;
    Emily Dickinson, ‘Much Madness Is Divinest Sense.’
    Anonymous, ‘Fowls in the Frith.’ This poem, which is around 800 years old, is ambiguous
    Oliver Goldsmith, ‘An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.’

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