The False Divide

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