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