Running this again for dVerse Poets prompt on privilege.
He felt it was his birthright and she felt it was hers
to only wear designer lines from underwear to furs.
Their schools were the finest. Their cars were Lamborginis.
They lunched on finest caviar and supped on steak and blinis.
Each Saturday brought manicures and plucked-out nasal hairs.
On Fridays, deep massages to tone their derrieres.
Since they never did a lick of work, they never had to hurry.
Everything was done for them. They had no cares nor worry.
When times demanded action, they sat up on their shelves
hoarding their petty worries and tending to themselves.
And when the celebrations declared the war was done,
our cloistered privileged duo came out to join the fun.
But alas they were not recognized. They didn’t know a soul.
Locked up safe in their houses, they’d had no plan nor goal
for defending all their property inherited from kin,
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