Karta a Dubai (Letter to Dubai)

Parks under bridges,
heliports in each building,
something doesn’t smell good
and I don’t mean my nose,
even the streets are perfumed
to eliminate what its pure.

Cars for partying,
cars for going to work,
ads beside the road
are the only grafitties
soiling the stoll.
Buy a house and get a car,
buy my product cause it’s brand,
publicity doesn’t even tries to convince you,
everyone here is alreay part of the crew.

I could wonder,
Where are the homeless?
Where are the beggers?
Where are the blind ones and their labrador retrievers!?
But it’s stupid thinking about it,
all of them know the truth,
this amusement park is for the players
who can put apart every clue.

I guess this is not my place,
I guess I don’t belong here,
but still I can understain
why they live like this.
Seeing all that money
wasted in unuseful things,
could be painful and even mean,
all this meaningless philosphy of enjoying over all,
belongs to the rich ones that are still poor.

But then you meet them,
and all the negativitie disappears
with a plate of rice and chicken.
One can not change the world, not even two,
but still something is going well
once you realized thoes ones can be other numbers too.