I Can'T Be Proud, I'M Very Tired Poem by Dan Walters

The sun rises to its watch tower
To beat down on us
Like the economy
Beats us down
Making stress beads drip down our back
The struggle just gets harder
To move one foot in front
Of the rest of the pack
Keep your stride kid
‘Cause they’d devour you
Whenever they see fit

Everyone who took off
At the starting block
Are a thousand yards a head of you
Maybe even at the finish line
Who knows who got first
Who really cares
You’ll get a constellation prize
Same with everyone behind you
The only difference is
They all want trophies