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
Available on Amazon
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