Ditch kids, street walkers, hippies and HipHop hustlers don't scatter
Although in your misconceptions and perceptions they don't matter
As God in creatures, crazy and crafty, clever and braver invested value
Which your wealth and stealth do their best to devalue and paint blue.
When a pauper you meet with no mask on his face
Ask yourself how you'll decrease his poverty pace
In which he wallows with no scrap of bread to swallow
Tossing right and left until sleep to him turns yellow.
Staple food the street sentinel can't afford
His body, mind, brain and belly forever in discord
Each asking the sentinel why to their needs he can't attend
Leading the sentinel to wonder how long his stomach will distend.
When on your table caviar, steak, rice and wine flow
Assume hawkers and peddlers fight a famine blow
From the first of the month to month end
Because to them your bays, days and ways need to mend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem