The streets of Peru

When I was young in Peru,

The streets were never clean.

There was sand, dirt, and rumble,

That you can feel underneath your feet.

When I was young in Peru,

The streets were never empty.

There was laughter, there was yelling,

And there were so many selling.

No matter the time,

I walked those streets.

The ones with no streetlights,

The ones in the heat.               

No matter the time,

I walked those streets.

My eyes would meet a starry night,

That beats anything I’ve ever seen.

When I was young in Peru,

Strays walked the streets.

The barking and meowing,

The same sounds that repeats.

However it wasn’t the cry of defeat.

It was a whine for food,

so that they can eat,

The food they smelled the same as me.

I couldn’t blame them for wanting a taste.

And a taste they got with such a haste.

As the crying died down,

And when I looked around.

You would see all with happy bellies 

Making happy sounds.

When I was young in Peru,

Everyone was so nice and dear.

Acting as if you were family,

Who’ve seen each other all year.

Back to when I was young and up until now,

I will never forget those memories or what I’ve found.

What I found was a city, filled with love and demand,

And I wouldn’t change a thing all the way down to the sand.