Already having been abused by poverty,
a division was like salt on an open wound
The thoughts I had were far beyond count,
Monotonous thoughts of shame and pathos
To what do I owe this disservice?
What is it that my parents did for me to deserve this?
Why me, Lord!
Is this favour only for the rich and not the poor?
Rich or poor, there was one thing common about us,
We were human first
Over-privileged and underprivileged
are both comprised of the word ‘privileged’.
Wealthy or poor, we were both bestowed a privilege,
A special right to be born human under the sun
Nevertheless, I cannot hold anyone accountable
for what my bonce tells me about me.
They were rich and I was poor, but we had one hope.
A hope that tomorrow the sun would shine for us both.
We ought to demolish the walls
and construct a viaduct with the same materials
For a stable bridge is built with both durable and weak materials