The psalm of the disinherited
Our father, of us all
Of the poor, of the with no roof
Of the outcasts, of the unprotected
Of the disinherited
And the owners of misery
Of what that follow you
And of what in you don’t believe
Beneath of the skies
So here’s the hell
Beneath of your throne
So there are wars, hungry, injustices
Doesn’t necessary that you’ll be one and triune
With one that want to help us
Suffice us
Which is your kingdom?
The Vatican?
The Bank?
The High politic?
Our kingdom is Nigeria, Ethiopia, Colombia, Hiroshima
Our bread of each day is the violations
The violence of genre, the pederasty
The dictatorship, the climatic change
In the temptation I beneath to diary
There’s no morning in what I’m tempted of create
A God that be humble, just
A God that be in earth, in the valleys
The rivers,
A god that live the rain
That travel around the air
And care our soul
A God of sad, of the gays
A God more human…
A god that don’t punish, that teach
A god that don’t threatens, that protect
If I beneath lift me
That if I lose tends me his hand
A God if I mistake don’t guilt me
And if I doubt he understand me
So for that he endows me of Intelligence
For doubt of all
Our father:
Why you forget us?
Our father:
Why you left us?
