Bugaboo (a poem)

It’s neither fair, nor is it right
That I’m an over-privileged white
I gotta get funky you know how it goes
But I’m just a skinny guy with a shiny white nose

Look at me I can’t even get in a fight
It can be a real problem when you’re just too white
I’m not good at hockey or lacrosse
And I don’t mind at all if you call me boss

It’s a tough row to hoe this wonder bread life
You gotta understand my particular strife
I can’t even get funky and dance
Without lookin’ like I’m in golf pants

I just wanna be just what I’m not
Doin’ the best with what I got
I’m not suprised if it’s a mystery to you
My unusual bugaboo

Gotta be gotta be just what I’m not
Gotta dance around in my white socks
Burn some toast and drink some gin
It’s a caucasion life of sin

Can I have your funkiness
I’ll just add a little finesse
And I’ll give it my prep school best
Where I learned to parapet

Hand me over that basketball
Would you trade it for a djembe end table?
I’m cool I’m cool no worries here
Let’s just hang ’n have a boutique beer

Ooh, ooh ooh, life can be a real fight
When you’re a young and privileged white
I gotta get funky you know how it goes
Wiggle my toes and learn how to pose

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