Mexico city:
The metropolis of my mexicana heritage: Nirvana of the country.
Growing up here from the young innocence of a little girl
To seeing my cousin only being ten year's old
Shot and her innocence taken at only such a young time.
It showed me men's innocence: as you can say it showed me
Their difference.
Though we have no difference
The only difference isn't blood or ones thoughts.
We all think alike
Some crazier than other's.
The separation is love and hate
And you have to know how to separate the two,
Or you can be stuck in the middle to both love and hate.
One outdoes the other:
I'll stick to the loving path
Because you got to have an even balance
Or the scale will tip.