Through Their Eyes

"May I have that?"
The same request pours from different mouths
Till my cup runneth over
Such is the life of a man, not a lover

The sound of chattering
Happy voices ringing
Men and women singing
Songs of laughter jingling
Stories some consider amusing
A tense-free zone
At least what it seems to be from the front door
Food at a man's call
One bell away, a man's boy
A call, an order
A request I have to obey
For some measly change, I have to obey
For the family's sake, I have to obey
For my goals' sake, I have to obey

How does it feel to be them? they might not wonder.
The harsh words spoken in the voice of Thunders
Humiliation in harsh weather
Till hands harden and hope withers.
Surviving on little to nada
A hell their thoughts built a border
Never to cross, to ponder
Such is the life of those in suits and fine dresses

What can we say about a waiter's thought?
Not the songs of joy as those that call
Their order is his priority
As a person, a minority
He fails, a job he lose,
A reputation too crew
He will they mock as a fool
His ego will they bruise

Such is the life of the men in white
A bow tie around their neck, too light
Their pride, are they to hide
From the light of the day, till the shadows of night

How does it feel to be them? he might wonder
If only I can live as one of their kind
I will live the life of the high
My family, I shall lift with my might
My horse, I shall ride with my pride
My love, I shall bring as my wife
My home, above the mount on high
So his thought might be when he serves
The very people he wishes to be like
A prayer I don't wish for my child