I look down at my short brittle
nails, with peeling nail polish
and for a second I am ashamed
As you walk past me
without even looking twice
I sigh, close my eyes and feel the
sun on my face as the wind blows
through my untamed curls
slowly I smile as he takes my hand
and holds it tight
I open my eyes and look at him
and realize I am the rich one
As you sit there in the cabin
with your pristine manners
and empty eyes
Imprisoned by something
called social status and all that
it entails to uphold it
I feel sorry for you, I was once you