Sasha fierce, Clark Kent, or other alter egos (2/30)

I work for a consultancy on Wall St
The next few lines are for context, not for boasting
I am not part of the 1% but I am not far away
I build Derivative trading platforms for people
who don’t give a fuck about you
I pay more in taxes a year, than most of my friends make
This is the truth, not conjecture,
not gratification for the hip-hop culture in me
I try not to be Righetous - of - self
Sometimes I fail in this...
I don’t go to clubs if I am not buying a table
I am running out of room for stamps in my passport
I understand the privilege in my problems
my 1st world-ness

I struggle constantly
about feeling proud of my accomplishments
or guilty
I am a black man, first generation college student
my mother is proud of me.
There are hollow voices that echoed in slave ships for me to be here
My great-grandfathers withered hands
My grandfather’s worn knees
My father’s wandering mind
All scream for me to be here
Don't they?
I have worked so hard, to be right where I am
for you to read my rights
and my wrongs
truth is...
I want to be rich
I want a big ass boat
A house with a gate, to keep you out
And a phantom in the driveway

I am a writer
I write poems and shit
One time, someone said
“after listening to you I don’t feel alone anymore”
I give of myself, I give back to the elements
that weathered me here
I wonder if I am balancing the scales
if my Clark Kent will be enough for heavens gates.
on judgment day
will my evens outweigh my odds
to put it in plain speak,
the reason I am conflicted is this

I know I could be doing so much more
but so much more...does not pay

-This is my reality, one that at times i am not so proud of-

This weekend I am going to Vegas
to blow some money
Just because