A poem in Cavatina form depicting changes in cultural class over time and generations.
|A Dichotomy of Class
As a child I was strictly taught to be polite
Now this was tough
But It’s still imbedded in my personality
Now that is rough
Still letting the ladies go first, pull out their chair
Truly well bred
Mature women are flattered by these manners, which
The young folk dread
In the new age, these manners have fallen away,
So I am old.
There is no more “the weaker sex” for the ladies
They are so bold
A dichotomy arises in my beliefs
A split in class, I should attend to the debriefs.