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.