There I walked,
the timid man on the sidewalk-
an example-
of the low end of middle-class.
Mama said-
never to raise my voice,
always to defer to the leaders.
They were what they were,
because they were better than us.
And, I did.
I aspire to reach the middle of middle-class.
But, why did I feel like a child
trying to catch the clouds?
Yet, the big man kept telling
we were all fine.
I accepted,
yet,
why couldn\'t I believe?
But I fell in line.
Lent my voice and
made it louder than him-
perhaps
he would notice my devotion.
He thundered-
everything is nice,
in top shape,
the economy was alive.
And, being his stooge,
I said -
\"Middle-class, stop your whine,
make do with what you have.
You get educated,
you feel clever-
ask too many questions
in your insignificant lives.\"
\"You ungrateful airheads-
NO MORE.\"
I rambled on-
\"Get out of your illusion;
you never mattered.
Donation by the rich is
democracy\'s foundation.
That foundation is made deeper by-
a mammoth number of poverty ballots.\"
But after the outburst,
I wish I could plant on my cheek
a resounding slap.
Chasing the passing clouds,
I betray my brothers.
Then I recall,
like myself,
they lose no opportunity-
to throw brothers into the ditch.
I parrot the leader- to earn favour.
I have to balance on
the unstable ladder in my ascent.
My puny hope shows who we are!
Yet, in the morning\'s naked light,
I walk out with my head in the sky,
wearing a dazzling suave countenance,
for the role I am to play.
Hope, dreams
and everything in between,
keep me trapped in the illusion
of being someone....
Those few feet...
If I could only keep climbing,
I might reach.
Perhaps it\'s my grave,
that I dig,
but, what options do I have?