The Curse of Ambition

The well is dry, the lemon squeezed Creativity and effort’s final drop spilled The fountain of youth, now a dustbowl Empty promises, what a show! End of my tether, I feel the strain Pushing forward, in endless pain Commitment to self, my only drive To never quit, to always survive But exhaustion looms, like a dark cloud Before my collapse, I ask ‘am I proud?’ I'll push on, till the bitter end I’ll surmount this mound Like Bukowski wrote, "the race goes on" Though my legs feel like they weigh a ton I'll keep running, till the end of time For success is the most difficult climb.