Tomorrow I and all the world condemn
That I am only, of a person, half.
I might’ve had a life tho’ I’ve missed them,
My maze of memories’ crannies worsens:
The afternoons that should be clear and strong,
A distant haze, forgotten roads - but soft!
Is there a place I have not gotten wrong?
Remembrance catches me so badly oft …
To keep a journal, to keep a diary,
To try and lock the day within my brain -
Will I lose it all?  Yes, no past for me.
Watch all my yesterdays down gutter drain.
             Worthless, my poetry I write today
             In hopes that it will yield a better way.