Nights like these

On nights like these,

I am made aware of how adored I am, 

I come from a family where the sweetest fruit is always saved for me, 

Where my wants are met by the next morning, 

I come from a family where my greatest worry has been to pass a tough exam, 

I am too privileged to be worried with the fear of survival, 

For I sleep on silk covers, I eat from ceramic plates, 

I cry at the thought of missing out on a shallow meeting with my shallow friends, 

I frown at failing governments, 

I am never satisfied, 

Never fulfilled, 

I am slim, Beautiful, 

I have large eyes, beautiful hands, 

And of this fact, I am constantly made aware by the people around me, 

I am the type of girl that boys write letters to, 

I am the kind that teachers adore, 

Yet I am also the type with unnervingly horrid attachments to consumerism, 

I breathe capitalism, 

Money is nothing but paper, 

I am the tomorrow that the poor can only dream of, 

I am rich, 

Invincible, 

And yet, extremely ignorant. 

For I do not recognise my privilege, 

Unlike on quiet nights like these, 

When I am made aware of how adored I am.