Anniversary : 17 March <3 It’s called the Pointe, Pointe Saint Charles, it’s a country located in the borough of the south west in the city of Montreal, Canada. It is located between the Saint Lawrence River and the Lachine Canal. In has claimed its independence since October 1999 after youth group fought for their rights. With a population majority being Irish it is no doubt that the point is the most powerful country to become independent... As all countries, the point does have a capital. The point's capital is Verdun.

They can see it in your eyes, deep down inside, in your soul, you can not hide the lies, because it’s true, it’s one and only, it’s a part of you. It’s our hood it’s Always here, the Pointes always got your back have no fear, straighten up, and wipe them tears, the point is here, no more nightmares. We can pull together through it, we gonna do it, show the world that we can. You know the point is crazy ain't it, but you earn your respect and you know it. All the world has is us, when it spins, when it swirls, you got Connies pizza it’s the best in the world. Here you’re sheltered from it, even though sometimes it seems the action is here. The points nights life never ends. It’s so good out here forsure, but some things you just shouldn’t see. You see more then needed, its not how some should be treated. All the drugs and fights, screaming threw the nights ain’t always safe to be in the point like it was when we were little kids but everything happens for a reason. I guess it was never safe but it’s something you can’t control anyways and that’s what destiny is. No worries thought, we can make the best of this, the Point is still the best and it will not change. It’s all good; Pointe Saint Charles is number one hood. We the little hood, overcoming obstacles.

Pointe Saint Charles has got the world’s best graffiti’s. The Point’s youth roams down the streets, they brighten up our city walls, using spray cans to send a message to city hall. Light up walls like shining stars, the children make their own mark. Spraying pictures, making art, their own light in the dark. Graffiti is real, emotions that we all feel; they say our masterpieces are illegal, but it’s the government that’s really evil. Carved names for our fallen soldiers put down by the blast of a gun. Tags of gangs portraying what is done, and even of what is to become. Graffiti flows freely here, like birds flying in the air. The Point's street walls are always like canvases, painting a portrait, the future imagining.