Charles Bukowski,
master of cynicism,
wrote to speak out against
the evils within his city
and depravity of human nature.
And through his
sex ridden, drunken words
he created a truth
we never knew existed.
He didn't need
the approval of several souls
to inspire and provoke
his uncontrollable creative drive.
My confidence rests
in an arena, dark and lacking.
My ego is crushed
far too easily.
Writing
has become my one inspiration
to keep writing.
Carry on
and finish.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is everything! ! ! Loved it!