So High Class
So, High Class
Torn by internal conflict
I paint on a darling smile
Put on my neatly creased suit,
In their eyes, this is me.
A patron of the country club
savoring filet mignon
and a fine Bordeaux.
“I got the check,” I say;
As I dip my manicured hands
deep within a sea of freshly pressed plastic.
“Why thank you, Sir" and
“Dinner was just fabulous.”
I return to my over priced Lincoln
and begin to drive off
with a confident wave
but
my smile begins to smear.
I loosen my shirt and murmur
a sigh of utter relief.
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