All men are created equal,
Or so that's what they say.
But does each indiviual
Truly have fair play?
Some are born rich,
With stacks of gold
And crowns upon their head,
While some are born with little wealth
And no blanket on their bed.
Some are brilliant geniuses
Whose thoughts spring to their head,
While others aren't so quick-witted
And thrive at sports instead.
And who am I
If I can't be
A genius or a queen?
Must I simply be content
To rest somewhere between?
To just be me
Is a simple job,
At least others may say.
But in my opinion
Being where I am
Is right where I'd like to stay.
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