Loving poetry by Charles Bukowski atm. Share some of yours
All theories
Like clichés
Shot to hell,
All these small faces
Looking up
Beautiful and believing;
I wish to weep
But sorrow is
Stupid.
I wish to believe
But belief is a graveyard.
We have narrowed to down to
The butcher knife and the
Mockingbird.
Wish us like.
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