All good.

All good.

I hope you do not see yourself in this

I am a victim

Blame me

It is what you

Want to do

Being born poor

Is a fresh start

So much to gain

If you have the heart

Climb out of the dross

Shovel the dirt away

Clear the clutter

From out of the gutter

Have pride

In your beginnings

Do more than survive

Thrive on adversity

Silver spoons are a curse

What can be worse

Than a privilege

Back bones are

Made for hardship

Sing for your supper

Pity the upstart

The parvenu

Deserting their station

For the trappings

Of wealth

With little humility

Or stealth

Work hard, earn your place

Dust yourself off

With a little good grace

It is easy to fit in

With the right face

Believe me

It is your fault

If you fail

I do not give a rats tail

For the people who die

I am a pious

Self-righteous

Shoot from the hip

Kinda son of a gun

Sit at god's right-hand

Counting my blessings

Every one

This is my land

Of the free

Pandemics

Are for losers

Paper bag boozers

Diabetic snoozers

They will never hurt me.