We are the poor.

In the morning we wake to the sound of the world around us,

  treading lightly hoping we can stay another night.

We ask and we beg as you pass us on the corner, our existence a bag in the wind.

Living each day hoping for the strength to continue,

being thankful for those who support and understanding for those who cannot.

We lay back down thankful for another day,

hoping that tomorrow our struggle ends.

We are the poor.

We are the average.

Waking up to the sound of our alarms we dread what stands in front of us.

Walking in the streets to stress and boredom,

passing those wishing for a meal, ignoring them as if not there.

We create a mask of happiness to those around us,

underneath our mask we are worried.

We walk home knowing what waits,

we hang up our masks and live our reality.

Drowning in our regrets of our past,

we work hoping we have enough for the next day.

We are the average.

We are the rich.

Soaring above the clouds is where we awake,

looking down on the less fortunate. 

We are driven to work watching as people walk thinking nothing of them,

we don’t know who they are nor care, they are nothing to us.

We take everything for granted, 

we are snobby and ungrateful, we expect and we receive.

Giving none but taking all.

We are the rich.

...and We are the world.