You tell me; I’ll tell you…
What is it like to compete
with advantages so complete
that you simply just have to show up
to be awarded the golden cup?
For me, you know what its like?
It’s like trying to ride a bike;
uphill on tires sans spokes
and a chain that’s rusted and broke!
What is it like to be blessed
an audience, the leader’s behest?
Your presence, the primaries reason;
the party, the height of the season!
For me, likely, ne’er that scene!
More aptly, some foolish dream.
Cold water usurping my slumber
and dark, the cloud I’d be under.
What feeling please tell ‘bout inclusion;
your smile is no mere illusion.
For me, naught but a frown.
My spirit’s not lifted, but down.
What is it, to really belong;
they regale you with loud sweet song?
For me, all I hear; a groan
or bad news over the phone.
What is it like to be taught
the world is your oyster; wars fought?
And, in spite of our fathers who died
for me, never the winning side!
… The Poor, feeling in our America
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