“Do you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?” Charles Bukowski
Wisdom So Rare
At days end what did you receive,
what did you let go?
An examen of ebb and flow might help,
for life gives up a series unplanned,
memories touched by a word or a chord,
the sound of a voice to reminisce,
an exhaust that intrudes,
faces, tears and smiles,
all morsels of emotion to feast,
nothing rote learning can touch,
and though two times two equals four,
what feeling is that?
Or a library the envy of all?
Pages and jottings are bankable things,
even a conference or two,
but at the end of the day a little reflect
brings a wisdom so rare,
a discernment of movement or no,
be there pain and resist,
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