Echoes of Street Urchins

When parents don’t have a choice and vanish We, the hunted children of the urban jungle, Inhale distorted dreams on an empty stomach Falling asleep with stars and nightmarish rats There is oxygen enough for the entire planet Surprise us, please, with lullabies not bullets We are afraid to grow up - as Fairies do not touch - Only men with cold fingers in their perverted lust “Let the children come to me...” - Hope Mountain echoes- Above the World’s Stadium let kids’ pinata splatter With candy for the rich and candy for the poor We all belong together residing in our Hope… Copyright 2011 Iolanda Scripca Written for an International Documentary film...Check it out at: www.caprioleproductions.org The little filthy secret of the economically rich Brazil is the assasination of the poor "children of the streets" in its capital. They are considered a nuissance to the rich and their lives...these poor kids are called "Street Urchins" and are victims of drugs, prostitution and violence.