We see you strutting around,
hips swaying to the beat of
the cheers from the imaginary
crowd your ego created in
your inflated head
You have the audacity to
swivel your self-serving-stare
into our humble direction,
and profess your perplexity
at our underwhelming mediocrity
You,
king of your metaphorical mountain
Us,
prosaic pedestrians of nothingness
Your confusion at our inability
to rise to your level of prestige
would be endearing,
if not for the superiority complex
served alongside it
It is as if you have forgotten
what it was like before you scaled
this mountain of entitlement –
Lulled yourself into believing
that you stumbled straight out
of your mother’s womb
an entitled prick.
But who were you?
Who were you?
Who were you
when you were us?
Before you built your
kingdom of superiority,
as unremarkable as the rest?
Surely there was a time when
you were one of the people
you now sneer and scoff
for being right where you were
not so long ago
Who were you?
Who were you?
Who were you
when you were us?
Would they be proud
of who you’ve become?