Life is Success School here—we all get graded.
You get a high
mark—watch those doors unlock;
You get a low mark, and you wind up jaded,
Watching the limos
drive by while you walk.
The rich are always getting extra credit;
The poor eat brown
bag lunch (PB&J).
If it has looks, the powerful will bed it;
The weak will
haunt bars, looking for a lay.
You either get promoted or kept back;
You either get the
handshake or the lash.
Success means you’re the home team’s quarterback;
Detention means
you live here with no cash.
We get to drain
the dregs or skim the cream,
And either
live—or only dream—the dream.
Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells
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