En Donde Mierda Estamos

Cousins and I hang out
Kids play breaking moons with spark plugs
Near Angamos Avenue
Where the hell are we
If you have almost grams in your brain
If on Sundays you have plenty of cheeses
Almost no one comes out unscathed
Drug addicts to the bone
One or another paying with years in prison
What happened with that
As a child I focused
I didn't make a mistake
If I just wanted to give it a few hits
Step firmly and never get lost
They said those who truly cared for me
Those who seriously offered me friendship
Almost half is lost
But I know they love me as I love them
They know who I mean
To those who grew up with me in the neighborhood
We played Mario, we never lacked the essentials
Now I'm on stages and in scenarios
I'm among the several who shoot serious paragraphs
The only thing that remains intact
After 10 calendars
Is like the light in cemeteries
And now in Surquillo
There are more knives than kids
They cut you for a simple thing
They just want money
Typical attitude of the gang
Who wants to pull triggers
Desires that unload scribbles
That's how I learned
Walking with gangs
Of old men and lice
Careful they steal your sneakers

[Pedro Mo]

The city shoots you down
Lives among bars and sewer rats
Moments of tension that are raked
Ideas that hammer the head are tamed
With so much idiocy around me
I feel more bitter as the years go by
Faces disappear in my surroundings
An eternal passenger feeling of loss
I miss the simplicity of being a child
Although being a child hurt me
Scars in the essence
Are tumors in karma
That deforms the appearance of what would be my soul
In the future time different from what it is now
Traces of the past that emerge among dense smoke
The movie is erased from me
I can't locate myself because the pupils change
Like infection spots
Atrophied brains turned into ornaments
Orthodox of business
Of the vices of idleness
Kids who forgot to be curious visionaries
They no longer play on the field
They paint it when they hang out
And in a group they leave
Girls now understand
They inject and bow
Their faces for the purple spots
That mark them
Give birth
Faces with a grimace
Where the hell is childhood surrounded by cockroaches