American You

We walk the tightrope, stretched so thin,

Balancing hope and the grind we’re in.

Not poor enough for aid to spare,

Not rich enough to not despair.

We rise at dawn, we punch the clock,

Trading time for the things we stock—

A house, a car, a fleeting trip,

A life that barely gets a grip.

Taxes bite and prices swell,

They promise help, but time will tell.

A raise at work, a fleeting cheer,

Inflation laughs, it disappears.

We teach our kids to chase the light,

To work, to dream, to stand and fight.

But student loans and debts remain,

A heavy weight, a ball and chain.

They say we’re fine, they say we thrive,

Yet most of us just survive.

One sickness, one missed check, and then

We start from scratch, we start again.

Still, we strive, we push, we try,

We hold our heads and reach the sky.

For in our hands, the country’s made—

The middle class won’t fade away.