Classes Poem by James Ephraim McGirt

The world's divided in many classes,
And all deny being of the masses.
Complex is life, whom to believe
When all the world seeks to deceive?

Society is false, I find;
I see how frivolous is the line.
The men with honor, much estate,
Compose the class we all call great.

One class is made by color line,
And one by those who dress fine;
The other's made by family tree—
Pretending all; striving to be.