Fleas dream to buy a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty, that one magical day good will suddenly rain down Luckily, it rains cats and dogs good luck but luck does not rain yesterday, not today, not tomorrow, not ever, or drizzle falls from the sky good luck, however much that no one calls and although they hand chop left, or get up on the right foot, or start the new year getting a broom.
The nobodies: the sons of nobodies, the owners of nothing.
The nobodies: the no, the no, running like rabbits, dying through life, screwed rejodidos: 
Who are not, but could be.
Do not speak languages, but dialects. Who are not, but could be. Not religions, but superstitions.
It do not make art, but handicrafts.
Do not have culture, but folklore. Not
human beings, but human resources.
Do not have faces, but arms.
Do not have a name, but numbers.
not listed in world history, but in the crime reports in the local press.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them.
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