“Money does not equal happiness”
Is what the rich men say.
In an attempt to make us feel better when they lower our pay.
They’ll scrape us clean of everything we’ve got.
Then complain about THEIR lives while sailing on a yacht.
I know everybody’s got problems, but our battles we fought and theirs
they bought.
And yes as humans we all bleed the same blood, but we do not live the same life.
So spend a day in my shoes, and see if you’ll still be loved by your wife.
Mr. Corporate man, I beg, if not money then what does bring joy?
He looks up from his papers, at me, the man he wants to employ.
“That’s simple! Happiness is good health, family, a home, and food!”
I’m sorry sir, pardon me for what I am about to say
I truly do not mean to be rude.
But I feel like your concept of money and joy is misconstrued.
Your ideology is conceited and skewed.
You fail to realize those things are not a given.
If they were I wouldn’t be vigorously searching
through the floors and the walls I have riven.
Looking for something to pay with,
to purchase your given joys.
Anything.
I only need twenty more dollars to pay for my rent.
But god is that rare.
I’m so sick of this. Begging for help, sending out a flare.
Yet twenty dollars is worthless to you.
Cause well, you’re a millionaire.
But go on,
make your claims about how I should clean myself up, work harder,
do more.
You don’t seem to understand, to do those things is something I can’t afford.
And trust me I wish I could, oh how I pray I could
I pray to the Lord.
A Lord of which you are not, so don’t preach to me about working hard.
Tell me, have you ever even mowed your own yard?
For that matter, have you ever once cleaned your own room?
I mean have you ever even held a broom?!
To you, money does not equal happiness because you were born into it,
you didn’t have to witness the inner workings of it all.
You never had to watch your mother cry as she explained why you can’t play basketball.
Hiding her embarrassment by claiming it was cause you just weren’t that tall.
Wealth is hereditary,
and so is poverty.
Happiness costs a fee.
Making me filled with jealousy
and a hatred towards greed.
My childhood left me beaten and scarred.
Whereas on your sixteenth birthday, you got a new car.
But you cried, screamed, and carried on.
All because it was the wrong
color.
This business you “built”, was passed down to you from your brother.
So you have no right to show me any shame
and state my work ethic is to blame.
Because to me money IS happiness,
and to you…
It’s a game.
