Caught in despair, an appalling commencement
A farce of this condition betrays its intentions

Something ambient, everybody can sense it
A waft of indignation and rife with condescension

Taught from birth that you were the chosen descendants
A status and position divined through the centuries

Who dares wander in your rare air?
Cultivated and debonair

A misery, a vice, a gift for your heirs
A luxury supplied in guest homes with au pairs

A maid whom you describe as the mother you'd not had
A woman whose own children can’t say the same of theirs

inheritance, part ii (domestic labor theory of value)

matthewmathieu