The Middle Way

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They drive to jobs they secretly hate,
In homes they bought a decade too late.
Flat lawns trimmed with suburban pride,
While dreams grow mold somewhere inside.
Credit cards and weekend debt,
Streaming shows to soon forget.
Mouths full of freedom, hands in chains,
Chasing comfort, dodging pain.
They post opinions, loud and clean,
While swallowing the same routine.
Vote for change — but not too fast.
Let someone else go first, they ask.
Recycling bins, but SUVs,
Organic food and factory cheese.
They praise the poor from cul-de-sacs,
But triple lock the doors out back.
Safe careers and tamed ambition,
Mortgage-bound into submission.
Their fears dressed up in business casual,
Their boredom made respectable.
They mock the rich, resent the poor,
Stay silent when it shakes the floor.
A class that clings and dares not fall —
The quiet cornerstone of it all.

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