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(Literal Translation from Romanian)

This poem, actually,
it's not even a poem,
just some random text
that
will waste your time
and energy,
will try to hurt you
and rub salt in the wound,
it will mess with you a bit.
That's what happens when you don't read
what you're supposed to.
This text was born
to teach you a lesson:
next time
be more careful
with what you choose to read!

(Alternative translation I)

A Poem Not Meant to Be Read

This poem, in truth,
is no poem at all,
just a simple text,
meant to stall—
to steal your time,
your energy, too,
to wound your soul
and rub in the salt,
mocking you,
it’s your fault.

That’s what happens, don’t you see,
when you read what’s unworthy.

This text was born with a goal in mind:
to set you straight, to make you find
a better path, a wiser way—
be cautious in the books you stray!

(Alternative translation II)

not recommended for reading

this poem truthfully
isn't even poetry,
just some random text
that will steal your time
and drain your energy,
will try to wound you deep
and on that wound will heap
salt, in other words
it's making fun of you.
that's what you get, it's true,
when you don't read what's due.
this text was meant to be
a lesson, you will see:
next time
be more careful
with what you choose to read!

(Original poem)

poezie nerecomandată lecturii

această poezie, de fapt
nici nu e poezie,
ci doar un text oarecare
care
îţi va lua ceva timp
şi ceva energie,
va încerca să te rănească
şi pe rană să-ţi presoare
sare,
adică îsi va bate niţel joc de tine.
aşa-i, când nu citeşti
ceea ce se cuvine.
acestui text i-a fost dat să se nască
pentru a te pune la cale:
altădată
să fii mai precaut
în lecturile tale!
The poem playfully critiques the act of reading indiscriminately, mocking both itself and the reader for engaging with texts of questionable value. It examines the relationship between writer, text, and reader, exploring notions of expectation, disappointment, and self-reflection.

The tone is ironic, self-aware, and lightly admonishing. The poem is a "non-poem," undermining its significance while drawing readers into its trap. Its conversational style, fragmented structure, and casual rhythm reinforce the playful nature, making the critique feel lighthearted rather than harsh.

Mocking its lack of depth, the "poem" provokes the reader to reflect on their choices and consider the value of what they consume. At the same time, it critiques the culture of superficial engagement, urging a more thoughtful approach to literature.
Claire Kowal Nov 12
I saw that text one night.
I read every line over and over again
I can’t believe you said that
I thought of the best way to respond
I was honest with you
Though my message was shorter,
I meant every word
Once it sent,
I blocked you
On everything.
You wanted nothing to do with me
Why should you know about me?

I heard what you told our friends one day.
I was told over and over again
I can't believe you said that
You wanted me to be scared
You wanted me to change
You cried to them saying that’s what you wanted to happen
Life isn’t fair
I meant every word
We were done.
There was nothing you could do

I know about the things you said about me.
You repeated them over and over again
I knew what you were going to do
You tried to paint me the bad guy
Make the fallout seem like my fault
What happened to you saying you would **** yourself without me?
How come saying you were done with me painted me as the terminator?
Life isn't fair
You should know that by now
Actions have consequences
If you didn’t want me to leave,
You shouldn’t have reacted the way you did

You apparently told someone what you were going to send before you did
You told my friend since preschool
They sided with you
I’ve known them my whole life
They’ve known you for not even two years
Life isn’t fair
I should know that by now
But it still hurt

I saw that text one night.
And I hate to admit it,
But I cried
Anais Vionet Oct 19
Why do the texts keep on coming?
Why does my phone have to chirp?
Don’t they know,
the election is over..
It ended when I cast my vote.
.
.
Songs for this:
Bring Me to Silence by Fievel Is Glauque
The End Of The World by Skeeter Davis
xavier thomas Jan 14
You should come and pull up just kick back, while you relax
Lets engage that, then create
that, what a wild life
just a shy girl with all the right vibes
can’t replace that

Pull up come kick back, while you relax
We can unpack, then create that
I have a sweet tooth, you’re a sweet snack
Babe it can be us,
make good flashbacks
My Dear Poet Jan 7
I am not afraid
to send you my ❤️ in a text
if you ignore or delete
it is not the one in my chest

that is for one and my only
it will not go to waste
like the ❤️ in this message
I can copy and paste

so if by chance you reply
with a real kiss
without an emoji, you win
my real heart, like this
Stan Gichuki Nov 2022
Dear Women,
If you’re wondering why he’s no longer texting you it’s probably because when he was, He felt like he was the one putting in all the effort he’s the one that sent the good morning and good night text first. He is the one that would ask you how your day was he would specifically check on that one thing you told him you were doing today. It is not because he has all the time in the world and he has nothing better to do he’s busy with his own things he made the conscious decision to make time for you only when he saw over and over again that his efforts were not being reciprocated that he decided to leave.

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"I don't like texting" yet that is all they do when I am with them 😂

How hard is it to fully form a sentence.. 😂
newborn Jul 2022
text bubbles moving
as i wait for a carefully
calculated response.
the anticipation is brutal.
sentences ending with lol
cause there is nothing else
to say, but if i stop speaking
it will be rude and offensive.
the screen lights up and
your name flashes by and
my pulse increases in speed.
how do i respond…
this is what happens when i text people
7/19/22
Alienpoet Mar 2022
There is no room for gods
for angels and hope
for wings of flight
and depth of field
this defensive arms want to yield
and this scarred heart wants to heal

There is no room
for imagination
under the weight of these books
the text fills me up
no devils cup
no drugs or substances can free my mind
the weight of the world is unkind
and the sub titles aren’t signed
and chaos has died in my mind
or it’s been set free
I can’t escape I just don’t want to be…
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