When the gold diaper you were born into fits so snug,
The other’s made of ******* deteriorate with the slightest tug.
The golden boy’s stomach never left un-full;
While the rest sit on sidewalks starving, prospects looking dull.
He sits with his polo and designer jeans;
With others' clothing tearing at the seams.
Playgrounds built on dreams and possibilities,
Compared to the inner cities garnished with crime, drugs, and thieves.
Rolex on the wrist, with the push to start, and pockets full of possibilities;
The majority sit only wearing a smile with hopes to finish paying off life’s fees.
The cake walk to the finish line leaves the greedy with a foggy windshield,
While the rest have a clear view of the broken path compared to the grassy field.
The purchased view of the skyline, reflecting discrepancies with few up top and the rest below,
The ants down below look up at the windows shining like stars, a present wrapped in a bow.