As the photos are a bit blurry, I’ll transcribe the poems:
We pillage and whore
Hauling our loot
We swagger down alleys
We don’t say please
The town is burning
We set it in flame
We are the fire
That’s gone out in your eyes
We are the maggots gnawing your heels
We are the rain trickling down
From the hole in your ceiling
We are the ants inside your walls
And under the boards of your floor
We are eating your house
We are the sharp rocks under your knees
In front of the altar
Where you are kneeling
We have no morals
No guilt, no qualms
We don’t give a damn
The sewers are clogged
Filled with waste
The water is rising
We’ll make a ship out of
Your naïve, broken dreams
And lay siege to your sanctuaries
We are a ravenous horde of rats
We are the fangs and we are the beast
There will be no more admiring gazes
No more courtesies
No more gardens in spring
We are the rising waste
And you will be a drowned king
NOTE: The first stanza has been crossed out, and the sheet had been torn up.