Tell me, Putin, what do you want from Ukraine?

I’m not a math respectologist,

But 18 + 6 = 24,

And even these numbers whisper:

“Bro, don’t knock on Ukraine’s door.”

I’m no subtraction dietologist,

But 13 – 5 = 8,

And even basic school arithmetic

Knows your plans are out of date.

I don’t know the whole multiplication table,

But 6 × 6 = 36 —

So why you multiplying problems

Like it’s your national politics mix?

I’m no division expert,

But 85 ÷ 17 = 5,

And even fractions understand

Ukraine’s independence is alive.

I don’t study named units,

But I know my meters and my miles:

Kilometers of Ukrainian land

Are NOT your “buffer zones” or “files.”

I’m not a geometry genius,

But I know circle and rectangle clean —

And even a square would tell you:

“Man, this territory ain’t your scene.”

I’m no astronomy oracle,

But I know stars, galaxies, and space —

And even Jupiter’s like:

“Bruh, give Ukraine some grace.”

I’m no biology professor,

But I know nerves, lungs, bones, digestion —

And the whole human body screams:

“Stop this war. It’s not a question.”

I’m no philosopher of nature,

But I know Earth, rivers, mountains, rain —

And even the Dnipro’s majestic flow

Asks you: “Why do you cause this pain?”

I’m no English expert,

But I know one phrase crystal-clear again:

“Tell me, Putin, what do you want from Ukraine?

A map? A clue? Or maybe… just a brain?”

I’m not a math guru,

But even I can calculate the pain:

18 plus 6 is 24 —

And somehow you’re still counting on Ukraine.

I’m no geography wizard,

But I know the map just fine —

Ukraine’s a sovereign country,

Not your personal border line.

I’m not a cosmic scientist,

But even galaxies know the drill:

Stars don’t collide on purpose,

Unless someone’s lost their chill.

I’m not a philosopher,

But here’s a question plain:

If history taught you nothing —

Why replay it all again?

So tell me, Putin, honestly,

Without your usual campaign:

What do you want from Ukraine, dude?

A map? A compass? Or maybe just a brain?