Grown Ups
Why does being a grown up have to be so damn hard?
Who is the one Really who dealt us all these cards ?
Some of us are rich, blessed with a wonderful life....
The rest of us forsaken, with a life that's full of strife....
The poor ones, of they suffer .. their lives full of despair...
The rich ones, well to their lives, nothing else can compare....
Born of old money, raised on a farm..
One full of hunger, the other full of charm....
It could not be God...No! I just can't believe..
To divide all his children? I cannot conceive...
Who is the one... the poor have to thank?
As the rich man is laughing all the way to the bank....
Life is not fair.. or justified its true..
Face facts, suck it up..
There's not a thing you can do.....
Wallow in self pity.. "Oh woe is me"
Or get off your ass and set yourself free....
About this poem
Sitting around one night feeling sorry for myself Because I was not born into money or married into money. So I wrote this poem.
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Submitted by tonjaboyd on March 04, 2023
Modified on March 06, 2023
- 53 sec read
- 9 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABCCDDEEFFGGHIHJJ |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 824 |
Words | 175 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 17 |
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"Grown Ups" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/152736/grown-ups>.
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