In this place
The difference is clear.
Over there we have
High rise flats,
Homes to richer folk,
Who do not dwell
On their fortunate order
But take such placements
As deserved and earned.
And over here,
A wall away,
Are simple points
Of poverty.
Few questions
Are asked
Because it is as it is.
In this other place
There is a game
Of imagined order
And of the just.
Folk vie to climb ladders
Not recognising
That their feet are tied.
Mere words can not
Equate this unnatural balance
Which is a shameful thing,
Yet amidst the tears
Are voices which sing.


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