This piece of prose seeks to preach to society that judges the unlucky without reason. My observation of numbers has lead me to see reasons for portraying one in better light. Yet, judging the few who are disfranchised and not born with golden spoons (While a golden spoon is referential, I seek to draw the line between the ones who have had opportunities versus the ones without) is harsh. I write since humanity holds them culpable when it is society wherein lies the fault. You cannot change time, only change the possibility of repetition. Improving conditions for the unlucky is the only solution to change the mistakes they might make in the future. Our legacy is dependent on the improved benefits to the deprived.
A Deprived Man’s Tale..
Society’s defines me, whether I choose or not. Either way, sayings seem irrelevant and vile. Perfection is not what I was born to portray, I agree. Yet, as I speak impressions are made. Faults are found, as always, I believe. Should I care, or should I illustrate dissension? Yearn and realize to protect thyself is paramount. For society pleases to exemplify me as arrogant, sometimes out rightly with contempt laced with anger and jealousy. The veracity though is that I am who I am. Hold I will culpable society with diatribes insane.
