Doing well, is relative at best
Beating a dead hoarse pounding and pounding, begging for rest.
Forcing the bolder to move
With all your might, striving for the tipping point you diligently invite.
One degree, then it's all done
After exorbatant effort, you think you have won.
Only to learn, an inch isn't enough at all
You strive for the mile,
And over again the dominos fall.
Chase the blink.
Just the know, in the now
Don't think.
It will consume you somehow.