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The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth

 if I suffer at this
typewriter
think how I'd feel
among the lettuce-
pickers of Salinas? 
I think of the men
I've known in
factories
with no way to
get out-
choking while living
choking while laughing
at Bob Hope or Lucille
Ball while 
2 or 3 children beat
tennis balls against 
the wall. 
some suicides are never
recorded.

Poem by Charles Bukowski
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