Thread: Alone With Everybody
Alone With Everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and sometimes a soul,
and the women break vases
against the walls and the men drink
too much and nobody finds
the one but keep looking crawling
in and out of beds.
flesh covers the bone
and the flesh searches for more
than flesh. there's no chance at all:
we are all trapped by a singular fate.
nobody ever finds the one.
the city dumps fill the junkyards
fill the madhouses fill the hospitals f
ill the graveyards fill nothing else fills. -
Written By :- Charles Bukowski,
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