The Privilege Paradox

I feel privileged at the oddest times —

Not when housekeepers arrive,

but in the car wash line.

Grateful to be,

but simutaneously,

past struggles linger,

like the lasting print of a finger.

Why was I born inside the border?

Some scrimmage for food

as I tap another Door-Dash order.

I haven't earned it..

yet I deserve it--

but no more than the next human

who's just as decent, I'm assuming

I ponder

“Does this seem fair?”

while the technician polishes my nails,

hers have always been bare.