Where is our strength in the midst of so much poverty that even rubbish becomes a purchase at the fair?
Where is our strength in the midst of pain, because when we feel it we see that haste brings hunger?
Where is our strength in the midst of those who cry out for salvation, and not the salvation of the soul, but from all this tribulation?
Where is our strength in the midst of war, and poverty in education, health, perish for lack of choice.
Where is our fortress which is said to have so much wealth, when the most needy are homeless in the open air?
Where is our fortress, whose beauty bears only its name, because its streets are stained with blood and its walls are furrowed with the marks of hunger?
Where is our strength amidst the fear that haunts us, that we do not know and with life we return?
Where is our fortress that once was our STRENGTH?