Crammed Quarters

The notion of equality is vague,
Utopian,
Not so to the young,
Who don’t know yet,
What’s wrong with our world,
For every child that spends his mornings in school learning,
There will be one selling bananas in the hot sun,
The school goer is pampered with toys and homework,
While the other loses his father to the local alcohol,
Growing up with uncles and aunts,
In crammed quarters,
Crammed in mind and body,
One day just like his father,
He too shall give up on his dreams,
Spit on big cars, resent the educated occupants,
And end up like him,
Or worse sire children and litter the streets,
With some more adolescent dreams of making it big.