Are you happy Sisyphus?
Do you ever think
Of the end?
Do you miss the ones
You loved,
And the ones
That loved you?
Do you wonder,
Of the flowers that
Grow to your right
Or maybe your left?
Is it truly fulfilling
To push and push
Just to start all
Over again when you get
That little feeling in your chest?
butterflies of content,
False hope that always
Let’s you down,
Not slowly, or with care.
But abrupt and so full
Of disappointment.
I’d dare think of you
As a happy man,
Camus thought that
The struggle itself
Was enough to fill
A man’s heart,
But I stand here
Holding unto my
Door frame
As the wind howls
And tangoes across
The empty street,
Blowing the leaves
Of a seasons past
Trying to hold unto
My feet.
How can I find happiness
In struggle Sisyphus,
Will it always be like this?
Im too curious,
Too distracted,
Too ready for the end,
Oh, I can’t wait for all
Of this to end,
Maybe then I’ll see,
That as my fingers latch
And my body flails,
There always has been
A smile on my face.