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Holy father, of all of us,
of the poor, of the roofless,
of the marginalized and the unprotected,
of the disinherited
and the owners of poverty,
of the ones who follow you
and of the ones that in you,
don't believe anymore.

Come down from heaven,
for hell is here.
Come down from your throne,
For here there is war, hunger, injustice.
There is no need for you to be one and tree,
With just one that wants to help, would be enough.
Which is your kingdom? The Vatican?
The Banks? The high politics?
Our kingdom is Nigeria, Ethiopia, Colombia, Hiroshima.
Our daily bread
are violations, gender violence,
pederasty, dictatorships,
the weather changes.

In temptation I fall every day,
There is no morning that I am not tempted to create a humble God,
A lawful God.
A God that is on Earth,
in the valleys, the rivers,
A god that lives in the rain,
that travels with the wind
and touches our soul.
A God of the sad, of the homosexuals. A more humane God...
A God that does not punishes, that teaches.
A God that does not threats, that protects.

That if I fall, he will take me back up,
That if I'm lost, he will give me his hand.
A God that if I am mistaken, does not blame me
and if I doubt, he understands.
Because that is why he provided me with intelligence,
to doubt of everything.

Holy father, of all of us,
Why have you forgotten us?
Holy father, blind, deaf and careless,
Why have you abandoned us?