Juxtaposition

I sat on a wooden bench in a museum
to watch a large black and white movie projected on the wall-
archival film clips from Columbia where fair skinned Europeans
live in luxury, dancing at fancy parties,

dress in beautiful clothes,
enjoying the best life has to offer, 
eating at opulent tables with perfect teeth
and bodies adorned in diamonds and gold.

These images are juxtaposed against
the indigenous natives with their dark skin
and rags, life of misery, working for the rich,
sweeping floors, washing clothes,
living in squalor, then flash back 

to the wealthy in late model automobiles
going to the theater, seeking pleasure
in song and dance, laughter along with caviar.

The poor dance upon the dusty ground
accepting suffering as a way of life
until they rebel against the elite,
destroying their cities, forcing them to flee

their strength in numbers doesn’t make up for the gap
in education, so they align with a dictator
and do exactly what he says. After all,
he knew what was best for them.

Relegated once again to poverty and ignorance
but at least, in this new world, they were not juxtaposed
against the lives of the wealthy,
poverty was equally shared, suffering a common reality

making life easier to bear
when everything
was the same for everyone.