You have a flowing 
river of silky hair.

Your delicate hands
are as soft as cotton.

You have skin
as fair as the freshly fallen snow.

Your white teeth
are an ivory set of piano keys.

Why do you have everything?

The landfills hold mountains
of clothes that still fit you.

You have enough shoes
for a village to wear.

You are warm
when it is cold.

You are cool
when it is hot.

Why do you have everything?

Your eyes capture more food
than your stomach can take.

And, you leave your leftovers
for the garbage.
 

Your water comes
in plastic bottles.

That choke my

city’s waterways.

Yet, your trash is my
treasure.

Why do you have everything?

You write so eloquently.
You read so fluently.
Your education is so profound.

Yet, the words in your world
have no meaning
to me.

Why do you have everything?

Your eyes glare down at me
with shame and disgust.

You pity me,
instead of
empowering

me

with

hope.

Are we so different?

When we look into a mirror,

we

are

the

same.

Are we not both humans?

Why do you have everything
and still want more?