Your swaddled children of the elite,
The trust fund babies with a foot in every door.
These sheltered socialites I abhor.
Show me these indignant with delicate hands
Not having worked a day of hard labor,
And I’ll show you the real deal,
This concrete island’s backbone made of steel.
They live in outer boroughs,
Saving money on lower rents.
But long hours spent commuting,
Leave them emotionally and physically spent.
Meager paychecks and cost of living
Clear out their bank accounts.
But the thought of quitting and moving away
Is not an acceptable route.
Because they moved here for good reason
Hopes and dreams they must achieve
Creating their own opportunities
Success never an absolute guarantee.
Yet they strive to make a difference,
Finding time to help out others.
Volunteering for good causes,
Like Big Sisters and Big Brothers.
These are the inspirational doers
That I’ve come to know and love
Deeper than the surface scum
I’ve tried to rid my life of.
Because, in the end, the world won’t care
What designer bag’s on your shoulder,
About your prep school, East Hampton house,
Or Botox use as you grow older.
Give me people with a positive impact
On these boroughs and beyond.
To you I raise my pen and glass
For a promising future to all at last!