When I look out the car window, so many memories are recalled

 Some precious as diamond, some bitter as vinegar. 

The rice fields, they reek of my childhood

the fastfood joint where I happily ate my kiddie spaghetti

the beach where we spent our summers

and the school that accomodated 3500 students

and unpleasant memories

past the houses where childhood friends lived

past the streets where my childhood friends and I played; 

to the home that housed nine generations

of gratifying living

that learned sickness and cruelty and death

but also knows kindness and love.

When I look out the car window,

all these memories are recalled

 

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