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.