The Syndrome

I was an aggressive bigot, intolerant in discussion, a radical everywhere,

Nervous and irritable, with a sick temperament; a great bilious dispenser.

But upon asking the Left,

And then asking the Right,

Gave some light for me,

For they had no idea,

That their political reconciliation,

Planned for my next birthday,

Should end my diagnosis,

Fulfilling the mystery of

Why I was becoming serene and gentle, and filling myself with inner calm,

Eliminating selfishness, broadly tolerant; open to another’s point of view.

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