yourself.
you will be put again and again
into nearly impossible
situations.
they will attempt again and again
through subterfuge, guise and
force
to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly
inside.
nobody can save you but
yourself
and it will be easy enough to fail
so very easily
but don’t, don’t, don’t.
just watch them.
listen to them.
do you want to be like that?
a faceless, mindless, heartless
being?
do you want to experience
death before death?
nobody can save you but
yourself
and you’re worth saving.
it’s a war not easily won
but if anything is worth winning then
this is it.
think about it.
think about saving your self.
- Charles Bukowski, nobody but you.
I read this the other day, not knowing what to comment but feeling strongly that this poem was meant to be heard by someone I knew but couldn't figure out who. I had a friend call me this afternoon, desperate at his desk job... crunching imaginary numbers, yearning to just say fuck it and become a farmer but knowing at the same time that pragmatism is wise.
ReplyDeleteI just sent him this poem. So strengthening. Thanks for sharing. (I probably will too.)
I'm really glad you found it useful. I can re-read this a hundred times and find new meaning in it each time. And I can completely relate to your desk-bound friend...
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