My dear friend

I have visited the freakshow in the circus

I am appalled at what I saw but at the same time it attracts me and makes me wonder who is the freak between the spectators and the sad souls performing

Some of them are amputated, some are mutilated

They're marked and they're scratched, as if cut by knives

Others are mentally abnormal and disfigured, but they have no other way to get by in their lives

Stones and rotten fruit thrown at them are breaking them down day by day

It's an immense institution of humiliation

I'm sure the screams of pain and endless disgrace will haunt them forever

To me it's organised desecration

But when the curtain finally falls and the crowds recede, the show is over and done

The freaks of the show are counting their money and fall asleep one by one

They repress the fact that tomorrow will be another day, so they silently dream away, trying in their minds to keep out the unease and meet the scoffing, come what may

Oh, what money can make people do...