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In the poet's words which project a clear image of the ghetto environment and evoke the introverted feelings of a community exasperated by its situation and their ultimate solution for escape, came their denial and confused ideology. "In my hand, there is a gun. Deep, deep in my heart there is revenge." The cry is agonizing, stained by frustration. It is the reflection of a society warped by social injustice, of minds poisoned by revenge. As a nation, our conscience is pricked by the poet's scorching words. We are moved by the embarrassing plights of our brothers. We are touched by his grief...

In the poet's words which project a clear image of the ghetto environment and evoke the introverted feelings of a community exasperated by its situation and their ultimate solution for escape, came their denial and confused ideology. "In my hand, there is a gun. Deep, deep in my heart there is revenge." The cry is agonizing, stained by frustration. It is the reflection of a society warped by social injustice, of minds poisoned by revenge. As a nation, our conscience is pricked by the poet's scorching words. We are moved by the embarrassing plights of our brothers. We are touched by his grief...