An Ode to Frat Boys
Updated: Nov 18, 2019
If I didn’t hate consumerism
the bags under my eyes would be designer,
Prada or Salvatore Ferragamo.
If I didn’t hate conformity
maybe people wouldn’t be afraid of me.
Fuck it, I’ll accept your judgement for free,
your words are the constructive criticism
that drives me, which thrive my meaning to be.
So next time you call me a faggot
or laugh at what I wear,
take a look in the mirror
because nothing’s there and
you’re too wrapped up in your
blanket of privilege to look or care.
Brotherhood? No, all I see is self-centered
toxicity, in place to uphold your societal mold.
I envy nothing about you, nor does the world.
So please, return to your dismal drug dungeons
and disrespecting girls, because
this utopia is all yours, that’s for sure.
I do not mean to generalize, for not all
frat boys are vile. But this is to the ones
who have the conscience of a child and
hide in their own insecurities: Please remember
that you are a glaring stain on
the dress shirt of society.
But at least you’re not alone
In your soiled naiveté.