Working Class Reality

Melancholy,
And alone,
Sitting in a run-down mall,
Drinking bad coffee,
And watching the citizens
Of the working-class
Walk by.
Here dreams die quickly-
People live in reality,
Not it castles in the skies
Or fantasies of sun drenched beaches
And Paris apartments;
Just jeans,
coffee,
And work.
Vaguely, I remember life on the other side,
Where people dreamed everyday,
Because dreams came true;
But the memories are far off now-
Part of a world
I never truly belonged to,
And now I’m back at home,
Sipping bad coffee,
And watching my dreams die
In the cold sun
Of the working class
Reality.