I call myself a rich kid - freewrite

I call myself a rich kid
like I can own it, believe it,
not hate it, stuff it down my throat
and let it mingle with shame in my belly.

I believe I'm rich because I have so much more than so many,
more than any person needs to live, even opulently.

(The word 'opulent' reminds me of a part of the Passover story, in which we point out that even though Moses lived in opulent comfort in Phraoah's palace, he was not free, because his people were not free.)

I am the daughter Moses,
raised with the kind of passive acceptance
that only G-d can interrupt.

The first time I saw hatred,
it was an unquenchable fire.
I took my shoes off in its presence,
to better feel the burn.

I'm waiting for my instructions.

Any time you want to show me how to let my people go, you let me know.

I'm bandaging my feet, G-d.
Getting ready for a journey.

Next time, I'll look at the fire
instead of asking to be burned.

Andrea Gibson says, "I've never seen a bomb drop / I've never felt hunger / but I've also never seen lighting strike / and we've all heard thunder / and it doesn't take a genius to know / that something's burning."

Feet crippled by burns suck for journeys.

Tell me,
how am I supposed to help lead
if I can't walk?

I'm waiting.
Bandaging my feet,
trying to come up with a plan.

I'm a rich kid
by my own standards.

But these kids I work with?
Their fathers own oil companies
and don't get fired when the new management comes in.
They're full-time philathropists who don't know how to do laundry.
They're rich kids.

Two of them, at least, come from my county of origin.

We're rich kids,
but they must be crazy rich.
Or something.