Of The Sore Subject Poem by Saniya Galeyeva
Of The Sore Subject
Where should I write? Above? Or here, at the bottom?
I'd better use the margins, am I right?
I cut myself as if I were a pie. It's goddamn
Disgusting for the gods of the high life.
They are haut mond and I'm just a plebeian.
So they can break the cups against my stupid head.
My friend was called a swine - because he's kind and giving.
And I am hated for not being dead.
For I'm a corneal spot and itching stinky scratches
Across the faces of the golden ones.
I'll never shut up — like a flight of catchers -
I will spit out the truth into the eyes.
20/06/2018 (tr.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/3/2024 9:54:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
'll never shut up — like a flight of catchers - I will spit out the truth into the eyes. hypocrisy and your anger at the injustices and your ability and decision to speak about it........ thank u dear poet. tony