Excuses

As a child---
None want to remember this---
I had excuses for why
I didn't do my homework.

To know the real reason---
For look at me,
Don't I love to learn?---
Was because I was miserable
In my school environment
And didn't want to spend 
My hours of relief doing it.

Now, I have another excuse.
I do not want to be unhappy.
For, is that not the sad state of everyone
Working a career?
Sweating every day, 
In major loads of debt just to survive,
Working for someone who can fire them at
A given moment
Without loyalty,
Without just compensation,
Without fixed hours or rest?

It's not that I'm lazy---
I love to work.
It's just, I want my chance to forge
My own work for myself.
But everyone wishes me to never obtain it.

Why can't I be a writer?