I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

I’m tired of the bustle and hustle
that comes with my social status
and the color of my skin
Why wasn’t I raised with privilege
and wealth instead of being raised
with poverty and trauma?
And I try and I try and I try
to find a way out of this cruel existence
but it’s futile
I take pride in my never ending hustling
but at times it feels so exhausting
There seems to no end in sight
for this fruitless fight