It's funny how wheels run
over rotten tomatoes and cats
alike.
Like it doesn't mean anything.
Like it doesn't matter whose life
you're messing with so long as you
are safe.
Like slimy cadavers don't sit
on your consciousness every random
moment.
Like you don't feel the pain of
somebody mourning the death of a lifeline
until you're in their shoes and you
become run over by a blindly selfish brute
one day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem