I. the rust belt
cheap, burnt-out streets littered with rubble
people milling around, whole communities begging, 
desperately begging to be repaired

but no, the lion, almighty king of the jungle
cares none for the little ants; no matter how hard
the ant tries, it will never be enough

resentfully, the people sit outside
loitering, playing a game of poker
waiting, always waiting, for a lucky hand, a big break 

II. the mansion on top of the hill
a lovely rose garden in which a peacock struts by
beautiful, tall white gates that insinuate
I’m worth more than your existence 

lavish parties held weekly for all to hear
extravagant champagne and juicy gossip overflow 
full of officials ignoring the people’s pleas for more caviar 

new money? old money? no money?
Truthfully now,
which matches my life? which matches yours?