I try so hard at all I do

but that is not enough.

Twelve hour days at work, trudge through,

with only the difficult stuff.

Rarely a break, I do all I can take,

make enough just to barely get by.

My joy and my smile are terribly fake,

and I just want to lay down and cry.

Lonely, fatigued, and so very sore,

in the grand scheme I'm an ant.

Everything to me has become such a bore,

I try to stay happy, but can't.

My resolve, it quickly wears thin,

and soon I'll fall flat on my face.

Should have know that I couldn't win,

since I place last every race.

I wasted my life and so I pay the price,

my currency, sorrow, despair.

My head it is trapped in unyielding ice,

and I find that I no longer care.

So I sit here and I think to myself,

"man... why do I even try?"

All that I want is on too high a shelf,

and so I keep reaching, that's why.