Strung across my shoulder is a bag of boulders
The first the past
My naivety leading me to foolishness
Too stubborn to look beyond my own perspective,
And realize my actions were wrong.
The second the present,
The urge to create, to score high, to make everyone proud
To keep going, no matter how much you yearn for rest
Until the day you collapse.
The third the future,
The pressure to follow my passion yet monetarily sustain myself
And not end up a mooch,
To find love that leaves all of my loved ones satisfied
With no critiques.
I carry all of these boulders with me, day by day, and never ask anyone to share the weight
Because how could they?
It’s my task, not theirs.
I am Sisyphus, bound to carry this burden for eternity.
