a city birthing a city

glorious city with colorful lights

glittering with gold, with best lifestyle

fancy people belong here

they all wear hats and long coats

their shoes polished shining

their language articulate

men always walk with pride

their ladies always glowing and bright

each one of them own a house big and plush

inside they sit and relax

while they sip their english tea in expensive cups

someone not so polished sweats

this someone not so polished, is the servant who does’t sleep

the one who cooks for a family of 20, for him there’s nothing to eat

he doesn’t wear shoes of any kind, nor does he speak good language

always he walks behind the master carrying his master’s luggage

his children have never seen a school, neither have they seen a playground

for they are forced to follow the footsteps of their father

they never step out of the servant’s quarter

generations to come shall follow the tradition

children of masters to remain masters

to rule the children of the servants

slowly, the glittery glorious city, birthing a city

that’s dull, full of pain

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