YOUR MEMORY
Every time
Every moment—day and night
I followed by a shadow
Not it is my will; or my destiny.
It has mix up with my nerve as blood
A chronic nightmare in heart
But how is it?
It pooh-poohed on me in happiness
In my anxious state
It lulled me and escape
But always tease me like sores.
At that deep scar
Sometimes I yelled; sometimes I pride
Sometimes confused, sometimes familiar
But always uttered a sweet joy.
In loneness, I talked myself
Between people, found myself alone
Only one thing makes me blither—cheerful
Only one thing is awfully expensive for me
Your memory of sweet days
Memory of my first amazing feelings
Your memory which you had wrote.
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