A college degree.

A loving wife with two, maybe three kids.
A suburban house with a white picket fence, with a dog that
tried to dig underneath that fence, maybe because it’s more
aware of the systematic monotony that’s going on.

A minivan to take the two flawless children,
first to soccer, then to dance.
A meaningless job
in a meaningless room
wearing meaningless clothes
making meaningless money
paying for our children to live a meaningless life.

And we wonder why we have a youth suicide problem.