Today’s youth have been sold a very expensive bill of goods, and find out that what they bought is mostly worthless. Told they must go to college to earn a decent living, they paid ever increasing tuition and fees for pieces of paper that proclaimed them masters of the universe, only to find there was no market for their hard won degrees in women’s studies or medieval art. And so, jobless and penniless, they return home to live in their parent’s basement, wondering where it all went wrong.

You cannot see the stars from parents’ basement
You cannot build a dream from slag and dross
You cannot breathe free air through a closed casement
You cannot roll a stone that’s caked in moss
Your teachers care for politics not learning
Professors herd you inside Marx’s walls
The Constitution’s only fit for burning
You’re less important than their union halls
Diplomas are a shabby piece of paper
Bought at so little effort, great expense
Words that you though profound now gaseous vapor
All that you thought was true so much pretense
You find yourself at last no longer youthful
Your life no longer filled with youthful dreams
You realize your teachers less than truthful
Your lessons mostly cant and leftist themes
Your parents’ basement now a timeless jailor
A gentle room with but symbolic bars
You pace the floor and wonder at your failure
And dream of youth and love and far off stars