A Strange Journey
A Strange Journey/Michael Kwack
Entering a souvenir store on the road,
I realized I’d lost my luggage.
The wallet was well kept in my back pocket;
But money for the remaining days,
And passport, business card, party clothes, etc.,
All were in that suitcase I'd lost.
I didn't remember
Which roads I'd been walking along,
And at which store I'd let go of my trunk.
I turned around aimlessly, running backward,
Randomly in any direction in fact,
Starting to drop by every store at sight.
When I was here
And all the stuff therein
I showed you boastingly.
I murmured weakly into the air,
And they shook heads, with no expressions.
Through such hopeless, warmthless streets,
I was going on a strange journey,
Roving to search for my lost footprints.
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