College

This is what is currently ruling my life right now. Not exactly positive but somehow a great stress reliever.

So you can make payments for kitchen appliances,

Balance a mortgage

And own cars,

But you can’t have a college fund?

You never talk about it.

I am a footstep away from being thrusted into financial decay,

The perfect opportunity to show that you have been thoughtful parents.

Yet nothing.

I get it.

You dropped out of college young because of marriage and family.

The other slaved away to only go back in their forties online.

Yet when the fridge is a stainless steel brighter than my future,

Then we have a problem.

“You should go into medical.”

No,

I should not go into medical

Where logic and technicality rule with an iron fist.

I crave life,

Not death and sickness.

“You’ll make great money.”

Be a nurse because of money.

Be a doctor because of money.

A stereotype associated with the middle class,

So obsessed with wealth and materialism.

They project their poor childhoods on me,

Expecting me to rise from their ashes like a phoenix

Yet they do not realize,

They burn for nothing.

How can I pay for a medical education?

Can you explain the funding from the nonexistent college fund you never speak of?

I am smart because previous generations forced mine to be.

They could work at McDonalds  and pay for an entire semester.

We have to pay debts until we are lowered six feet beneath the earth.

And for what?

“I’m sorry, you’re overqualified.”

“I’m sorry, you’re just not the right kind of employee.”

“I’m sorry, you need 10 years of experience despite only being 21.”

Everything needs a degree,

Yet when they are priced as a luxurious display of wealth,

I have to think of alternatives.

“You’re dad’s not going to like this.”

A gap year,

Sacrificing education in order to raise money,

And for what?

Disappointment?

Disapproval?

My pessimistic millennial mind thinking of the pessimistic future?

Of course.

I know the road ahead,

Picking up shifts and working myself into the dust

All for education advertised to all.

Without money or any idea of what I wish to become,

What choice do I have?

I do what I want

Like the greedy and narcissistic millennial I am.

I force myself to place my weight in my hands,

Soon to be cracked and dried like mud.

My mind will wither,

My soul darken.

If I had been born with a silver spoon in my mouth,

I would not cry silently in my room

Aging my body with stress.

But I must.

The middle class dream is to work your way up

And I intend to do so.

My way.

Author's Note

Just a basic review and/or criticism.