terça-feira, 7 de fevereiro de 2012


Sometimes I think
What Bukowski would say
About my little meanless life
If I would be proud
Or if I would like to disappear

Sometimes I keep thinking
Of all the good minds wasted
Lost in the dust
Lost forever
And of all the good minds
To come

I think about
What I would say
To my heros
The last time I saw one of
I didn't say anything