SALT
Frankly, I don't care about the subject, and honestly, I didn't even hear the predicate, so, take your words to the ocean and dropp them below the sea, stop coming up with worthless jibber-jabber trying to pass it off on me.
Whenever you start to speak I just so happen to get this annoying little buzzing noise in my ears that doesn't go away until you close your mouth. I wonder if even YOU take you seriously. Seriously, when you walk away thinking that it's like talking to a brick wall, I pull my earplugs out and agree with a huge smile on my face, knowing that the egg is on yours.
So next time you have a thought that you might be able to faze me, just let it go. Because, honestly, I barely acknowledge you as a passer by, I probably forget your name from time to time, and if you think you can hurt my feelings, I apologize, but, you must have me mistaken for someone who thinks you matter.
So remember this and remember it well; I have not words for my enemies, and less for my kings, but for my friends I speak volumes, because SALT is my thing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem