What's Better?

You there, the one

With a rounded belly

Chin held high

In egotism, with welly

Leather belts and

Big fat pockets

Sharp eyeballs

In cold eye-sockets

You there, the one

With your upper crust chick

Haughty strides

Dresses slick

Such pride, such envy

Such high heeled shoes

Incapable of compassion

Manipulated rues

Why do you see me

With ridicule and hate?

When I stand in anticipation

At your shut gate?

Is it because

I beg you for food?

Or do my frayed clothes

Appear rude?

My face fatigued,

And my manners crude?

Oh I get it,

It must be because

I stereotyped too

Excuse me, I forgot

That’s the one thing

Done best by you

And pardon me

When I dare to state

That even in my

Haplessness and misery

I feel great,

Because, given a choice

I'm pretty sure

Anytime, anywhere

I’d rather endure

A hard sustenance

A poor house, falling apart

Than be like you

With a hollow character

and a poor heart