We are the heir
To Blair
In academia we make our bet
They get into debt.
Fortune is linear?
Starve, charge and never recharge.
Let’s get skinnier.
We are living it up
Naivety of a pup
In the workplace we are like slaves
Then at night we rave.
Our big break will come.
Chase, trace and encase.
To the beat of our drum
But I will not succumb
You are all so dumb
Here I become
And then some…
An artist.
I escaped to Bohemia
Away from academia
Ran from the curse
In my converse
And then some
Ran away from academia
Away from the curse
In my converse
To Bohemia
Poem from poetry book The Quarter Life Crisis Poet
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