In the highrise skyline of my city,
I often see a frail sign of smoke -
Rising from a thatch roofed house...
Containing the smell of hunger and need,
A silent prayer; A distant courage;
Comforting words in the masks of lies,
I see it rise, as if from a burning corpse -
- of humanity; The price of life in a big city...
... the cost of the laughter of children,
I see life crawling in the underbelly of pretention,
An ugly face of undying hunger shadows the houses -
- jumbled boxes of human life in the slum of my city...