Oh Rodeo

Oh Rodeo,

a street where wealth is shown off and price tags have no limit.

Louis Vuitton. Cartier. Tiffany and Co.

Porsches roar like thunder. Their owners walk into stores where items cost more than most make in a month.

But one block away,

Hope fades to gray.

Tents barely stand against the wind, their nylon walls patched with duct tape.

The homeless go unnoticed as the privileged pass by,

eyes locked on a distant horizon. Unbothered, people walk by cardboard signs begging for help.

Oh Rodeo,

A homeless woman wakes on concrete

Searching for her next meal to eat,

while I scroll through emails in the comfort of my own warm bed.

Two worlds collide, yet never truly touch.

Though worlds apart,

We share hopes.

We find joy in a simple meal.

While we all wake with dreams,

only some of us can see them unfold.

America is the land of opportunity — but for whom?

Oh Rodeo,

Where tourists crowd the designer stores, while a man sleeps in the alley behind Gucci, his only blanket a torn jacket, worn out and forgotten.