Student Loans

It costs a lot to stay afloat

It costs to breathe fresh air.

Forget motivation, it dwindles fast

When hopelessness appears. 

We’re shackled to the government,

Shackled to unbending loans,

Shackled to our fears of failing,

Shackled to our homes.

When all we want to do is flee,

Touch grass of a different strain,

Possibly beyond the coasts,

In Europe or far away. 

All we’re given is one small life,

Short lived and often exploited.

Why do we never get a choice?

Our debt only grows, not likely avoided. 

We do try to manage the ways we can,

Find passions that feed our soul,

But every passing day brings forth dread

For the disposition we cannot control.

It hurts to be chained, to be locked down so tight

And freedom is called into our ears.

We’re tricked to believe we’re able to be free,

But what’s free, we chase till we’re near--

Near to death, near to losing our minds

Vacant expressions plastered upon our face

Don’t we work till we die, don’t we work just to find,

In the end we are in the same place. 

We dream to make waves, 

To live without fear, to falter and find support.

We dream that our lives can unfurl through the years 

but instead they are stunted and short. 

I’m maddened by this, I know you can see,

The peeling of paint on my walls,

My house is in crumbles, my dreams turned to mumbles 

Encroached by my life’s leaching costs. 

What is money but freedom, 

So we’re taught in this world and what’s worthwhile gets squashed in the mud.

Ambitions relinquished, goals extinguished,

All to live in a place I don’t love. 

A commune sounds friendly,

But we need more than that, our hopelessness must be overturned. 

Change must come massive, a wave of destruction,

To demolish the fate we’ve all learned. 

In a world without money, elitism, and status, our lives could bear a different truth.

We wouldn’t function for fear of losing our homes

Or having wages garnished for failing to pay loans. 

We’d function to contribute,

For we’d reap the benefit of society's fruit. 

Our purpose would be different, survival falling from our minds,

Art, music, and poetry would flourish,

Time would flower before us, 

We might even say ‘we’re bored’, we might even travel abroad without cords--

Strapping and bounding us to this awful land. 

Malicious and exploitative, holding us in its command. 

I dream, you dream, but life remains the same.

I still owe debts beyond what I can pay.

I sink to the bottom and I cry out in dismay.

My calls are not heard, they mean nothing to the lords of our land,

Through my tears, they still hold out their hands,

Eagerly awaiting my next payment to fund their exorbitant plans. 

I’m worth less because I make less, 

Thus is the ‘American Way’,

Forget ‘freedom’, it means nothing. 

As are we nothing, so to this land we shall always be chained.