I traced the cold call
I rang the number to vent my anger
I was held in a queue
So I played them some music
And suggested the call would be used for training purposes
And after 30 minutes the album was finished
The Artist as tired as I was
Singing the songs to no-one in particular
Waiting my life away
By then the anger had regressed
So I hung up
What a waste of time and money
Until the next time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem