Lovingly lick the pains of life.
They always intice,
like powdered Puerevian spice.
Caress the knife,
that cuts our culture into.
Address the fear,
that turns milky white flesh,
to black and blue.

Swim in the city sewage,
of broken glass.
Where the streets dead end,
and turn to the selling of drugs,
or tits and ass.
Here the blood flows warm,
into the bowels of the night.
A cess pool of eyes bare witness,
to poverties plight.