Let me tell you the truth of life: from the scattered corazon
Of where I stand from.

This country whose distinctive roots were demolished from its very insides.
This country whose soul is averted with great massacre.
This country with blind ojos from the loss of dreams is still in a dangerous coma.
This country with shy guilt and hideous smile.
This country who slits open veins and echoes hate, for the hunger of flesh.
This country who is filled up with puro moreno yet gringos sing with great pride of race hatred.
This country of people who only know to never hear, ignore the cries of mentiras donde nos ahogamos.
This country where all that's left is to take the intuitive act para la raza.
This country who has created a disappearance of love,
el sol who has kissed and left its mark on us from el primida dia.
This country who rottes insides, abandone the process of healing. If only the white man could have spoken the word, Coatlicue. El madre reina de infinite universes. The white man would have noticed how majestic we truly are.
This country who I’m not a burden to but is for me.

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