I'll make a hymn,
A hymn to my sadness,
Prose is my laziest instrument,
To outsource loneliness,
To let melancholy,
That in some point it had its nest on me,
I'll leave my inconformity,
My frustation,
My deepest feeling of denial,
Against all the injustice around me,
Neither by spitting it,
Cursing it,
Or changing it,
Becomes fair.
Where every man or woman has no value,
Where every object becomes value,
Welcome everyone,
To reality,
Where neither being a human could have more value than trash,
Where every objection is opposed by economic power,
Where every opportunity is shorn of those who do not have power,
Low self-esteem,
Constant comparison,
Self-destruction,
Our most solid principles in society,
Where suicidal instinct is a viable way,
While confrontation is brave and impossible,
Where all are dwarfed by those who take opportunities,
Beacuse most of them have opportunities at hand,
Freezing loneliness,
Takes over this city,
Where who gets laid more times,
Is the one who lives better.
Welcome to our society,
Where everything is declining,
Where the future is in the East and even in the north,
Where hope dwells expectation,
Which brings us to want what belongs to others,
To destroy ourselves only for not being enough,
Depend on the covers of social acceptance,
Just to be someone,
Where death,
It is a privilege and a prize at the same time,
For those who know that today,
Our society is the most perfect one,
For the generation born with it,
But not for our future or past.
Souls intertwine and become a new life,
They return to this soiety so different,
But they do not feel the change so sudden and incoherent,
Since the beginning of such children will feel,
But growing they will know,
That society will reject them,
They become marginalized at the same cycle,
Where mad people,
Dreamers,
Gentlemen,
Free thinkers,
The differents,
Will be placed on the corner table,
Where they are to fill leftovers,
Society just give them.
...
