If I could not write I would be mute
Condemned to violence in
The dictatorship of secrecy
Overwhelmed by all these feelings without words
I would fade away like a sea without water
My life would not be the same
As true as I could have taken yours
My talent has been corrupted in the illicit
Where moments of happiness are eclipses
When they are not ellipses
So I wrote in urgency
As if my life depended on it
Under the sirens of ambulances
I wrote, by instinct, for survival
I surprised myself by writing
In order to bear life
Too much of me in my writings
Maybe I don't write anymore, I write myself
I abandon my being to my letters
Because writing without soul is just letters
I don't just write to forget myself
Sometimes I write so they can never
Ever forget
So they can never deny
The martyrdom of the brave
Suddenly I write of volcanoes that I
Engrave with ink of lava
I only make music to vibrate
To make the riddled hearts vibrate
I only write to tell the truth
If I hadn't had the words, what would I be?
On the bench of the melancholics
My poetry sits

Between the hammer and the anvil
I had to sharpen my pen
When I am lost in the fog
I make my bitterness sing
So I write, I scream, I write
I have no choice I write, I scream, I write

Like a dedication to slam
It starts a cappella
All these voices that cleanse the soul
All these voices that brought me here
If suddenly my words fly away
It's because the beat lands
I took my finest pen
To be able to answer Kery
And when the piano starts again
It's to underline our wanderings
If I write it's to put face
To face my regrets, my hopes
Alone on stage, facing the room
Never think that I feel superior
And if you never see my tears
It's because they flow inside
It's true
There's very little certainty in my writings
But if I scratch so many texts
It's because my desire has not slimmed down
Desire to believe that in our time
People can still listen to each other
Where I live there are too many kids
That life has already disgusted
I write (I write) because the trials have inspired me
I write like all these kids that
The asphalt made sweat
If there are so many young people in our suburbs
Who decide to fill all these pages
It's maybe because life here
Deserves some testimonies
I write, because it only takes one
Sheet and a pen like the last of the
Dunces can express themselves
No need for a philosophy degree
I write especially to transmit and because
I still believe in sharing
In the exchange of emotions
A smile on a face
So no we won't change the world
We are just chroniclers
Of a daily life in black and white that we
Try to put in colors
But if we don't change the world
The world won't change us either
We have heart in our pens
And sincerity as a virtue

Between the hammer and the anvil
I had to sharpen my pen
When I am lost in the fog
I make my bitterness sing
So I write, I scream, I write
I have no choice I write, I scream, I write
Between the hammer and the anvil
I had to sharpen my pen
When I am lost in the fog
I make my bitterness sing
So I write, I scream, I write
I have no choice I write, I scream, I write

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