Poem: Life is a Movie

I thought she had heard me
when I explained that I was a bum
and all that being a bum meant.
I thought that,
perhaps,
she loved me anyways
regardless of all the
overwhelming amount of
terms and conditions
it takes to be with
someone like me.
I thought that,
maybe,
she was willing to be with me
because we were made for each other.
I see now
she really didn't hear me at all,
or if she did,
wasn't understanding.
I see now
some of the grand lies
I have been telling myself
for the last few months.
I see now
that to her I was
just a fling
and I was right
before we started:
Classes are real.
The spoiled brats
who read Marx
have no idea how real
class is
until they lose everything
and find themselves jumping
out a window,
to kill themselves,
because the stock market fell
and their class just changed
from "upper" to "lower."

Class is real
and I'm a bum.
She is upper-middle class.
That's all there is to it,
I wish it were deeper,
but life isn't a movie
where love conquers all.

Life is a movie
where the plane crashes
and people start eating each other.

Remember I told you that.