"Poor Little Rich People"

Ability shall be questioned,
To calculate one’s worth.
After all, that is the standard,
For a waste-of-time birth.

Garbage can, your new home,
Deemed the value of a rock.
But prove them all wrong!
Put them into shock!

Success is but a theory,
Money a worthless prize.
Little did they know,
That you’d be their demise.

Call an ambulance, quickly!
For the rich are cut!
Never mind, let them bleed.
And not a single but!

Regrets, they cry, wounded,
Losing all nerve.
But you say to them, “Silence!
Tis what you deserve.”