The Riches of Life

The rant:

Excuse me

for not having the opportunity to discover the world as you do,

but unlike you in all your cultured ways,

indifferent about the world and its glory

because you’ve seen it all, done it all, experienced it all,

all the while wearing your prepish sweater vest, gallivanting across “the pond”

—well your blasé attitude sucks,

and at least I still have love for small moments that you’ll never appreciate even if you try because that familiar bored gaze of yours cannot pick up on intricacies of life after all your gluttony of this vast world,

and you’ll never be released from such apathy because your sophistication cuts you off from the thrill of a swing or the feathery frill of the wind across your face or simple things

like good wallpaper.



Calm response:
Your jealousy leaks through your jumbled mess of words;
for it is apparent that you wish to have the affluence I possess,
so that you,
too,
can summer in Spain and enjoy the fine cuisine of France.
But well done for making the most of what you have.
Bravo, dear.