Alright, listen up, buddy. I’m stuck in this dump called PPedro-Velho (br). Let’s get it over with.
You got Rua da Esperança. Nah, it’s not hopeful.

Straight, lame concrete.

I trudge by Praça da Vizinhança daily.

I talked to a few women there—saw the pain.

I hate crap, but women are fighters.
Small park, Parque do Lixo, sorta.

Laughable name, right?

Kids play near a saggy fountain.

I sometimes vent my anger here.

I got tangled up in counseling sessions there.
Got a cramped river, Rio Lento.

I’ve seen cryin’ and smilin’.

“City of God” vibes, but no glory.

They mumble, “Pode crer, mermão!”

Kinda like our broken dreams.
I walk by Rua dos Sonhos—nah, they died there.

Feels like a clichéd movie.

Some alleys, like Mata Escura lane,

Make you see souls in ruins.

My counselor senses are tinglin’.
Strange spots?

There’s a tiny bar, Zé’s Bar.

Cheap drinks, harsh truths.

I overheard, “Isso daqui é real, mano!”

City of God echoes all over.
I got bias—my job aches.

I see pain in every crack.

Saw a dude hobbling by Mercado do Povo.

He nearly broke my calm.

Ugh, I hate every bit.
Oh, and my fave?

Beneath a rotten bridge on Rua dos Bandidos.

I sat with lost souls.

Talked about broken hearts and city scars.

Yep, like "City of God": brutal.
Err, im late, gotta shift.

If you swing by,

Drop near Café do Amanhã.

Best coffee in a crumbling joint.

Enjoy it while it lasts.
I’m done.

Stay sane, mermão.

And remember—“Vai que a gente nasce em outra vida.”
That’s it, friend. Enjoy your visit… if you can handle it.