2026 November PAD Challenge Day 13: Lucky You, Blessed Me

2026 November PAD Challenge Day 13: Write a luck poem.

Lucky You, Blessed Me

Woman to woman,

it hurts to hear another woman say,

“Lucky you got this job!

No, there is no lucky me, it’s lucky you!

I’m too blessed and highly favored

to not be a DEI hire.

Can I say I dodged a bullet?

And you’re not too down on your luck, are you?

Because only God hit the jackpot

when he blessed me with talent to

sing young, gifted and black out loud.

Blessed enough to really microscope you

like I microscope microorganisms.

Even more blessed that I can test and analyze

chemical reactions like your inhumane actions.

From start-up to execution, it’s absolutely a blessing

to monitor clinical trials like how I can monitor

your monitoring spirits day by day.

Lucky you, you don’t have to rely on the ratifications

of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and the restoration

of the Protect Black Women and Girls Act

to be recognized as human,

included and treated and paid equally,

not isolated and ignored,

because hyper-visibility, microaggressions,

and black fatigue like to cha cha

and bankhead bounce down the

halls and into the rooms in workspaces

camouflaged as and appealing to be safe spaces.

Happy go lucky for you that you

don’t have to codeswitch your behavior

to keep up with a population and trends

that never had Jesus’ love for you.

More blessed that I can write you up

for disrespect and misconduct

and write my own SAS codes to

detect and investigate disease patterns

and health disparities among underserved

and marginalized communities, and

write more lit literature to show the world

how discriminating, privileged and prejudiced

some of you really are.

Very lucky you don’t have to hear:

Oh, you’re really smarter than I thought you were.

Oh, you went to an HBCU, how was that?

Oh, you don’t have to wear too

much make-up and weaves, do you?

And as luck would have it,

you never have to worry about

being called an angry black woman

for defending yourself.

Called hostile for protecting your culture.

Called aggressive after being rudely interrupted

and speaking the truth 

or have to knock on wood

or keep your fingers crossed that your impressions

in the ring of ethnical fires is more than enough

to break the ceiling,

generate more seats at the table

so that you won’t be the only,

last black lucky, blessed one.

💜D'ElegantOne