Standing at the bottom of the hill again
Why do we never give Sisyphus his due?
Trapped in that same endless labored march
The rock won’t roll itself, after all
Going through the motions yet again
Knowing the whole time that nothing’s different
Insisting despite all that lies against us
That this will be the day we reach the peak
Throwing away so much that should be sacred
Wasting time and resources so dear
On something that will never see an end
Yet here I stand with fresh determination
To start anew, like every other morning
Grant me my daily burden once again
I’ll hang it on my shoulders and be off