Greenbrier

Can words describe
how much I hate this place?
I don't think so.
I detest everything,
from the flawless marble floors
to the busily floral wallpaper.
What I really hate, are the people here
with their Italian leather shoes,
their Ralph Lauren cargo pants,
their upturned noses,
and pinched expressions.
However, what I hate the most
is how the bellmen look at me
with thinly veiled disgust
how badly I want to scream
'I'm not one of them,
can't you see?'
But I don't
I shuffle my off-brand shoes
lower my cheap glasses
and hide in a corner.

The room is no better,
the walls close around me
stealing my breath,
and not in a good way.
Dinner is a separate affair.
Staff that absolutly
refuses to make eye contact
edible masterpieces
torn apart and swallowed.
You aould string a thousand chandeliers
and I will still be prisoner,
with a chain of gold about my neck
bars that are pillars
and slow death
that is called luxary.