FOLLIES OF THE RICH AND MUSINGS OF THE POOR

How can I mingle with the poor, I’m a millionaire, My intellect superior, And the masses inferior. I am a street sweeper, my name is Jane, Passers by think I’m insane, I am the sole earner in a family of five. I have been voted in as a president, Those idiots out there, who stand for hours, Just to wave to me in heat, snow or showers. I am an un-qualified plumber, I fix toilets and drains, The hoi polloi insinuate I have no brains, But it pays a doctor, and feeds us our daily bread. I sing at concerts, I fill halls and sport stadiums, Fans love me and know I’m a treat, Four thousand dollars for a front seat. I am a train driver and get home very late, Dinner always on the table prepared by my mate, My salary is meager but my heart full of faith. I am a film producer and bring starlets to fame, Nothing’s changed, they climb ladders as yesteryear, Come here and do as I say, good girl, what a dear. I live on this block and get paid for my tricks, My mom died of drugs, and my dad from drink, I was left holding the proverbial baby. I am a porter and carry bags for the rich and famous My work environment is a 5 Star hotel, My digs in the back yard of a dump, with a bad smell. MY INSPIRATION FOR THIS POEM Did you watch the film ‘Don’t look up’ Where the rich ruled the roost, And a comet hits and destroys planet earth, Well, the film ends with the elite on a plane, Anyone with wealth, power, or fame, Flying to a destination unknown to the world, Far from earth, a paradise they thought, As they came down the plane stairs, Filthy rich, all billionaires Met by prehistoric dinosaurs Who devour them, tearing all to pieces, All life that descends from that plane, ceases. Karma it seems does exist, As depicted in this film script.