If you had many mouths to feed
And weren't well equipped to write or read,
With a boyfriend nicknamed absentee
That comes and goes just as he pleases,
You'd go ahead and make a plea
To raise the rate to just 15.
For you'd need all the dough you knead -
Your life is going south indeed.
Then steps in the bourgeoisie,
Addicted to their iced coffees.
Howling like some crazed banshees,
Over a price hike on their prized caffeine.
Pay more for my vanilla bean,
I think not says the well off regime,
But I will take those two extra creams
For my vente drink with extra steam.
And just to boost your self-esteem,
My request comes with a tone that's mean,
Because it's not enough that your per diem
Is even less that it would seem.
But it is true, they've earned the dream,
Born into money and still breast feed.
With parents that had sowed the seeds,
They transition into wealth with ease.
Mount their yachts and feel the breeze
As they watch you try to swim upstream.
