If I was famous
Or had money.
It wouldn’t matter
They would pretend to love
And care

He ruined a relatively normal trip.
A surprise, but for who?
I bared my soul and he dismissed.
Again.
I was on the lower rung
A caste could not escape even family.
Money spoke.

Levels of achievement.
Without you, remained the plebeian of birth.
Herbie said “of peasant stock.”
Still to this day.
No value.

Boo hoo.
Money made the difference.
in deference.

And she defended him.

The ultimate dagger.
I was selfish.

Obviously.

Disdain again.
He left with fanfare.

Always.

Waving to no one.

Much like someone.

The Legend!

He was special.

And reminded himself.

Again.

I dreamt I was.

Somebody.
They came in awe.

Applause.

The most amazing city!

And his.
Awards showered and monetary rewards.

I was now free.

He saw me.

Finally.

What now would I say?
Be the bigger one?
Or speak my truth.

Truth.

I remained a pauper

in wallet, heart, and soul.

He won.

Again.