Flying Coach in Life (A Poem)

I feel like I have always fly coach my whole life

Yes, I’m flying, but was it a nice ride?

As far as I’m concerned, there is no flight attendants cared enough to ask me

“Are you having a pleasant time? Is everything okay?”

And it makes sense because when I look at the people around me

We are all well aware, we sit on the same plane

I asked why and I realized

I’m not white.

And my parents didn’t work in Silicon Valley.

But one can only be jealous for so long

and eventually, get tired.

One can compare oneself to the folks sitting in first class for as long as they want

Until they realize

Comparing themself will not change their ticket.

It will only leave them weary.

So I decided to keep flying, regardless.

To fly coach.

Will I land at my destination?

Is this phase just a transit?

Can I change my ticket?

They said an upgrade is earned. Will I be able to earn it?

One thing for sure,

I will not do a free fall from this plane

Even if I’m constantly watching people having a good time sky diving.

I cannot afford that.

So I will not do that.

I, after all, want to see where this plane is heading.

11/01/2021. Tan.

This is a one-minute poem, so pardon me.