Teenagers Corner - Unfinished


We’re all going to die. All of us. What a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities; we are eaten up by nothing.” – Charles Bukowski


I was falling, flat-footed, through a needle hole In an old woollen blanket.

I was warm inside but the feeling passed Without second guessing itself.

I rose into a deep well that meet the rivers of the underworld.

I drowned in those waters.

I am still here.


Don’t you think it trivial, to wake up every morning?

To speak even the most meaningful word?

To wonder into the depths of consciousness?

To write like a dead man would write?


In the aims of greatness,

We accumulate into dust.

That blows only in the way that the wind doesn’t .

In aims of profanity, and in the aims of profoundness,

We rise from that dust, to accumulate no more.

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