You are just like the others,
this truth loudly rings.
You never mentioned my name,
only my things.
You watched me fall,
and didn't reach out.
You were looking for someone,
with more clout.
I'm glad you are miserable,
it completely your fault.
You have $$ for eyeballs,
and blood filled with salt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem