It’s about you

Opened my eyes, to wonder
About when things go under
Or rather asunder
These things do come like thunder
And we always run looking for a plumber
Yet it’s we that plunder
Despite our bellies desiring us to be planters
I suppose you can’t do that with your Prada
Yeah, I heard them shout….boy wonder
But shouldn’t you already be a father?
Blunder….that’s the blinder.
@Daabris.