Poem Hunter
The Social Classes
( / Germany)

The Social Classes

Poem By Lovina Sylvia Chidi

The Social Classes
I tried to measure my individual status
Against this worlds benchmark
Pondering on common open remarks
Researching from newspapers
And listening to the media
Learning from decades of history
Some of those events remain a mystery
Trying to unfold the logic
Of the class differences in today’s modern society

Upper Class, Upper Class my foot
These are merely wealthy tycoons
Most of them born with golden spoons
Luck is needed to belong to this ring
Its liking flying to the moon
In a hot aired balloon
Or trying to sing
Through a key ring

Their moral obligation
As a minority of the nation
Is to obtain the best and most expensive education
They make damn well sure
Mechanisms are in place to differentiate
And ensure infinity of inequality
Like ownership of earths land
Placing humans beings in separate class bands

With a unique voice
You could release some hit songs
And become a millionaire
And join the so called
Socioeconomic class
Beware most of these people don’t care
You may never belong

I am not alone
I have not being blessed with this privilege
I wish all social classes could just merge
And unite as one
Maybe we may then be able to get rid of the gun
Right under your very nose
Right under the sun

Middle Class, Middle Class
This is the centre
Of confusion for the masses
The obvious gap between the rich and the poor
Here there is everything to live and die for
Hardworking families with two incomes
Dreaming of a random lucky lottery storm

Middle class people are so vain
Everyone striving for prestigious and wealthy gains
You are judged by your looks and your lifestyle
You are judged by what you wear from a lengthy mile
If you are making a considerable racket
In the labour market
You are always adored
People will always laugh at your dry jokes and never get bored

As an individual
One of my chances as usual
To improve my status in this class is
Societies and clubs
Where my expectations
Could be me met
If I have contacts
To the people in the right positions
This is the common norm
One you must conform
To be accepted

Lower Class Lower Class
Some of these people
Play quite skilful jazz

These are the lowest of the lot
The group everyone has simply forgot
Drug addicts, beggars and the homeless
Those whose situation is inevitably hopeless
Permanent consistent hardship
They are on an isolate platform

Constantly hungry looking raw boned
Many resorting to liquor and weed
To get highly stoned

Prayers are voiced in each days struggle
Pleading knowingly for a quick miracle

The Society’s Social classes
What unites us all?

© Sylvia Chidi- 17 October 2005

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