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The Psychological Hazards of Cloning
The Day I Met Me

I remember that day
When I was Cloned;
I was at My emotional zenith,
The day I met Me.

I liked Me.
I was charming and witty,
Always a gentleman;
Best of all, I was handsome.

I and Me had many conversations,
We got along well.
We discussed the weather, sports, women, and song;
Then Me and I had Our fun.

I and Me went to a park;
We played long and hard
With great delight,
Until a beautiful woman came upon our way.

She was attracted to Him over Me
(Or is that I over He, since He is Me?)
This attraction had happened before, where He got her
(Or is that I got she?)

Well, I had enough;
Me had done this one too many times to I.
I devised a plot to kill Me,
Where Me could be in death, yet I still alive.

One night, while Me slept,
But I was awake,
I took our gun
And slowly entered His, or My, room.

There I lay, I looked so peaceful;
I had no idea what was to happen.
I raised the gun to My head
And rested My finger on the trigger.

It was done, I had killed Me.
I was relieved,
Never again would I be jealous of Me,
For I am only I, no longer I and Me.

There remains one problem:
Am I I, or am I Me?

When I, or He, was Cloned,
The Clone, whether He or Me,
Knew everything that the original knew.
You tell Me, who am I? I or Me?

All this happened,
The day I met Me.

17 March 1983
David C Lawrence

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