Chalk and Chains

They write our future on a blackboard wall. The chalk dust

rises, but the answers fall. Pages torn, dreams on hold.

A story told, but the ink's gone cold. They teach us numbers,

but not how to feel. They build a prison, call it a

deal. Chalk and chains, it's all the same. We play their

game, but who's to blame? They break our wings,

they call it flight. We're stuck in shadows, chasing

light. The desks are crowded, the books are thin.