Struggle

These words set down upon the page I struggle with most every day Sometimes light as feathers flown The breeze picks up and moves along Other times like heavy stones I roll with heavy heart alone To only have them roll back down This heavy hill my pen has found – What Sisyphus of mythic lore Would know about, and know of more Enough for him to have a say Upon my labors here today I’d like to think he’d understand The way of words with modern man To recognize the boulder, not the verse Still remains the lesser curse