Región Dura

I keep hearing the laments
From this tough region
It's arbitrary for anyone
To try to stop me.

Parents lie
Trying to mold their kids
The foolish child who rejects
What came before.

If sanity calls me
I’ll escape without a doubt
Young is the heart
That asks why?

In the mirror of the world
I don’t see things clearly
God's off-key with the orchestra
And I’m trying to play.

My friends are the heroes
Of a whole lifetime
Sweet emotion that transcends
The cruel reality.

With that accusing finger
I’ll be careful
I love the reader who, between the lines
Spies on the minstrel.