My Life: A Reality or a Fallacy
Privileged to be born with silver spoon
in the palace and amongst the riches
Dancing with pride, I was over the moon
Never kept my feet off the rug
At the fate of poor people, I always shrugged
As a baby, getting milk in gold plate
Even though never tasted mother's milk
Still I have always bragged about my fate
Cradle made of 24 carat gold
I am the luckiest, I was told
A Personal chauffeur and a nanny
Were proudly being hired to care for me
Almost replacing my mom and granny
But I was charmed
With the media, my room was always swarmed
treated with most expensive clothes and toys
And playdates with aristocrats' children
Became my proud and everlasting joys
Though, I see dad less often
Still I gave my life my ten on ten
Until I saw those so called poor children
Who are always being loved and cared for
Happiest without palaces or gardens
In them, I saw contentment, empathy
And the joy of having loved ones around
Which jolted me out of my fantasy
Am I living a life in fallacy?
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