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Rags to riches

30 May

This constant grind Is killing my time
Draining my mind
I just want to be free
To sit on the beach and sip tea
Man what a life that would be
Instead I’m stuck in this routine
Trying to find a free moment
Where I can just be me
But see I’m not granted that freedom
I live in the slums
Where I work around bums
While the rich
Enjoy a nice dinner
Prepared by servants
With no more than the dime flipped to the valet
As he drives away in a car he’ll never afford
He contemplates evil thoughts
It’s not his fault
This system is designed for him to fail
Till that one bum makes it ahead
What a hard road to travel fir a piece of bread
But struggle comes to the meek
Through that struggle we shall seek
The promised land
Not promised to us
But dammit imma take my share

 

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