All the world is scared; nobody left their house, not even dared. While I lay on the empty streets, no food did I eat. and none of your cozy sheets. Feeling overwhelmed in this city of ghosts, everybody with their tall claims and boasts. Covid19 don't scare me; you won't really see me flee. Because living is difficult; death is easy. In this deceitful world, no one can serve two masters. That's what the Bible says, as quoted by the pastor who brings me food. He will despise one and love the other. So if your'e leaning on evil for support, you cannot possibly play in two courts. You make a choice, and if you compromise, you choose your fate, aye evil, mate. Can't blame another for your sphere You walked here, nobody coerced you here Lie to your soul, your mirrors have gotten old. This is but what you'll chose. Deception and pride, deflection and projection. That is what humanity has become without any real affection. Ego and bane, you have never seen real pain. Walk in my shoes, and then you'll know. Just how easy it was to criticize, not too easy to pay my price. When I'm really dead, this is what the tombstone will have read. Unknown, just like at my funeral, there will be just one poor miserable soul. Just like a quarantine, my life was lived in isolation. Away from them all, no kindness or pity. The rich, the powerful, and all up the Peking order, only used us to wipe their fodder. A homeless person on the streets is not afraid of shame; He has already seen all kinds of pain. So keep your snooty complaints of ego and more, Away from us, or we will roar. Here on the street, observation is our only treat. We know who among you are real, and who are cheats. Every move we watched like a TV drill, No other entertainment for us to fill. The street, the beatings, the indifference and disrespect - made us wise, what do you expect? But now, pained by agony and reality, we don't even fear mortality. A statistic on the malnutrition charts, the spasms of loneliness fills our hearts. Not merely a word, but it twitches like an actual sword. Our wretchedness and our blood may all the more flood, But still your inflated hearts don't see it, studs. So, we are the safest because we're not afraid. Death is actually for what we prayed! - RUELHA C.D.M.