What it must be like, I barely can recall How pebbles wedged themselves In the skins of those living low in makeshift huts Mountain climbing garbage heaps.
I am wounded by the blunt service of time Grimacing through each difficult decision Allowing others to sip of my life / to derision / Naught a possible sliding door for my dreams...
Now if you were to travel through the dust The ransacked tin and bamboo blocks Third world in third person living conditions Notice how the children still play
They know no other day or way to grow, But like the grass through concrete cracks Which reach for the sky and sunlight, Life finds a way to go on, blind to all the wrong.
I hardly remember, more often than not, How it was - to chase the devil through the crux Pass the alleys where girls lost their wishes And what it was like to want the strength to defend them...
A red rubber ball is rare to see among the boys The simple toy that bounces with enlivened joy But they share it in the momentsΒ not forsaken, Lifting away the weight of their reality as lesser saints
Laughter cannot Don on a mask It is how God brings the brilliance of hope What it must be like...