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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
