Don't Fret The Debt

Don't fret.

You've got 200 dollars to your name, loans

Racking up interest left and right

Where you are is stuck

In the middle of

Work harder, but you can never

Work hard enough to stop

Them from pulling you down

Below rock bottom where

They've stacked the odds against you and left

You with nothing more than a broken dream

That you can be more than this, white

Picket fence, two children, the good o'

American Dream.

But

Don't Fret.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My country

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