The False Divide
By May Kwek
A flat stood in a neighborhood
It’s features proud and tall
Compared to all the other houses
The rest seemed really small
The people in this flat
Were all well groomed
They spoke perfect English
And had books in every room
They dressed their children
In the best that money could buy
Everyone was polite
In between every Hi and Bye
I visited this flat and saw its people
Then took the lift down
And spent some time in the coffee shop
In the neighborhood on the ground
The people here spoke Chinese
And in many cases a dialect
They smoked, were terribly crude
Manners, sometimes they lacked
The children were just dressed
But no less happy
But their parents’ faces
Seemed aged by worry
For two places mere meters from each other
In essence they were miles away
Divided not by distance
But in every other way
The flat was all elegance and polish
The neighborhood below, crude
The flat was riches and finery
The neighborhood, poverty and fortitude
One may be inclined to look down
The other, perhaps to look up
After all, poverty and worries
Is a very bitter cup
Yet even when I think of those
Who live in the flat
Claiming they got there by work
And deserve where they are at
I can’t help but suspect
That if I extracted just the soul
Those in the flat and below
Would be exactly the same you know
Copyright © 2015 by May Kwek
