Poem By hoedong howard
there is my face in the copper mirror with blue rust
what a blameful relic it would be!
let me simplify my confessions to one sentence
for 22 years and 8 monthes, what kind of happiness have i wanted?
tomarrow, the day after tommarow or some pleasant days
i have to write down another confession
-why did i tell such a shamful confession at that young age?
after night after, i shall polish my mirror with my hands and feets
then, in the mirror, there is the sight of sad man's back walking alone under a meteotite