“Zero Percent”
I am enjoying the crowd, they’re shouting my name
When suddenly a shit bumped on my way
At the moment you stood up, you punched my face
You shot me your death glare and left the place.
From that day, I can’t forget your face
Scratch that—your horrible, ugly and not-so-pretty face
Your wavy and messy hair
Looks uncombed for more than a year.
Wearing a big loose t-shirt and miniskirt
Polka dotted knee-high socks and sneakers
Your taste in fashion is not so attractive
You’re not even sexy nor seductive.
Your quaint and annoying style
Even your ever-winning sarcastic smile
I hate everything about you
Even the smallest bacteria that lives in you.
All your flaws and imperfections
Including your impulsive epic actions
Now I’m starting to like you, I consent
Sudden realization, “No way! It’s zero percent!”
