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I was so sorry that
I would never possess
anything good;
that nothing good
would ever
belong to me.
I would never possess
anything good;
that nothing good
would ever
belong to me.
Not because
I was always
poor in dollars
But because
I was poor
at expressing myself
one-on-one.
I was always
poor in dollars
But because
I was poor
at expressing myself
one-on-one.
I was as yellow as the sun
perhaps
but also as warm and as true
as the sun
somewhere there inside me
perhaps
but also as warm and as true
as the sun
somewhere there inside me
but nobody would ever find it.
Charles Bukowski
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