
Credit – csmonitor.com
By D. R. DiFrancesco
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I ran the race, but tripped and fell,
The starter’s pistol heard clear as a bell.
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They say we start out as equals its true,
Sadly the shortest of fates straws I drew.
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The field is not level, its slanted you see,
The caste at your birth influences who you will be.
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Yes this can change its not written in stone,
You’ll have to push harder and higher alone.
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Your families old money makes for a pre-made man
While I scratch and I claw doing all that I can.
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As I’m running my race I can see you ahead,
Getting farther and farther from the path that I tread.
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You claim we are the same from conception to birth,
My mother cleans houses, what’s your Daddy’s net worth.
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The systems unfair, some say evil and cruel,
Treating those of less fortune as inconvenient and worthless fools.
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Because you say this is not so does not make it true,
I work as hard if not harder than many of you do.
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Still I live paycheck to paycheck without a spare dime,
Hoping and praying someday good fortune in turn will be mine.
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I would change my condition if only time would allow,
But with work, home, and family to their pressures I must bow.
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You laugh and call us stupid behind country club doors,
We are those that wait on you, clean up after you and shine your marble floors.
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How dare you proclaim that this system is fair,
From your ivory towers, sprawling mansions, and mountain top lairs.
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Remember there are those far less fortunate than you,
Born without the golden slipper, silver spoon our betterment you subdue.
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I look forward to the day when in my shoes you must walk,
Maybe then you’ll show compassion and stifle harsh talk.
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Until then I will struggle and work ‘til I drop,
Pray the system will change and this punishment stop.
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When fairness for all is the law in this land,
Maybe then we can solve our problems walking arm in arm and hand in hand.
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