It's a place
Where young hoodlums
With pockets full
Of spray paint cans
Are sucked until
They are bone dry.
Hoodrats, young and old
Gethigh.
Smoking a joint
As they spread the words
Of hatred
Onlycausing more death.
They leave gang graffiti
Imprinted against
The nakedwalls
Of empty buildings
In our district,
Along with the blood
Oftheir own bodies.
It is a place
Where young men
Are forced tospread
A sense of mortality
Through initiation rites
That debase
Ourculture.
Where young men
Become exploiters
Of their ownmothers.
They kill our people,
Their own blood.
While they watch
Usweep.
Our lonely tears
Silently falling
To greet the coldearth.
It's a place
That is slowly losing
The smell of happiness
Replacing it
With the melancholy
Smell of death
We arelosing
Our sanity,
Our civilization,
Our hopes.
Long lines of ourpeople
Solemnly march
To yet another funeral,
Where rosaries arerecited
Causing our pain.
And teardrops keep falling
For savagedestruction
More souls vanish
Without a trace.