Poem -

Why

Why

There's a reason our psychologies work in circles,
Accumulated fragmented pieces of memories collect
Like cholesterol or fat on the inside of veins,
Clogging up the path of clarity,
So much so that a lifetime of exercising 
thoughts or correct sociable behaviours would not unclog
The feelings of misunderstanding or lack of clarity.

The disarray in this life is like a fruit salad
It's full of misunderstood pieces of conversation that someone 
Has attempted to cut into bite sized chunks
Ready for someone's daily dose or order of attempted
Understanding, ready to be let down by their lack of clarity of thought
Disappointed by their lack of ability to translate the 
Fruit of others' tiresome social labours

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Comments

author
Gerard McGowan

When I talk to my psychologist I feel he will never truly understand me, even if I tell him how I feel he will never understand, he cannot comprehend the inners of my brain. Your poem has come closer than any ridiculously paid quack. Great write Adrianna. Pinned this one to remind me, I am not alone, infact this site, its humans have done a great deal for me, knowledge has found me well. 

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author
Mai B

Hmm, this seems to be a short essay written in prose rather than a poem. Was that your aim?
& I don't understand what you mean by "our psychologies work in circles", would you mind explaining? 
Other than that, I definitely like the last two verses:
"Disappointed by their lack of ability to translate the 
Fruit of others' tiresome social labours"

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author
Adrianna Franklin

It's like the law of attraction, the things we continue to think about follow us around and stay in the corners of our psyche, eventually popping up again.

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author
Mai B

That's a clever way of expressing that. Keep writing! 

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author
Charu Shawd

So true !!!!

beautifully ✍️
👏👏👏👏👏

💕🕊

 

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