Memoirs
I look at my photos
On some of them I am smiling,
On some I am just sullen somewhat
They show me some few things
The mirror would not;
Now I am scared, each time I look
I feel I am looking at the memoirs
Of a dead man.
Looking at myself,
I am sure the man died some time back
I've got this smile of a man
Who once lived, a good man:
The picture says it,
A man whose heart was real,
A man who gave all, all for nothing.
On the other I have this serene look
Of the dead man
Who could listen to you and cry for you;
A man who deeply felt for you.
On the other I am standing
With my hands clapped at the back of my head
Trying to think of where I would go
Having sold all of my world with a badge at my back
Brand new but sold:
I became a non-entity, all at the sad hands of love.
Elsewhere I am quite fair
And I look like a man who dismissed serious pain
With a queer laugh and whispered a heroic pain don't hurt.
I am scared each time I look at myself
I look at the memoirs of a dead man
Since I died in your heart.
I still need to live again,
There is no after-life.
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