I know anger like the back of my hand,
Like the person I may have known for Millenia.
Like a sibling would know another.
Like a child who was brought up without knowing their siblings but knowing that they exist and who finds them.
You can only know anger if you live with it, know what causes it.
But what is anger really?
Is it the pain someone causes you?
Is it the annoyance you get from those surrounding you?
Or is it the guilt you feel for not knowing a parent well enough?
I believe it is all of the three,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem