If things were composedHere and there
From made up memories
It wouldn't matter
to you, maybe
But it does to me
How to really know
Really know
Who can tell me
Or contradict me
That this past, only mine
Is made by my doubts
And misconceptions
I lost my past
I buried it
With the bad idea
Of a Korean runt
To have lived there
For nothing, the time
To forget those moments
But the question remains
Why?
Sunday, August 1, 1982
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