Each day I play the role of Sisyphus.

I roll my rock out of bed and leave home.

Sometimes I wish I was alive in this

New world so different from Greece and Rome.

I trudge to class, dragging my rock with me.

I would leave it behind me if I could.

Soon I will be back in bed, asleep, free.

All my effort wasted, though not for good.

I wonder if Sisyphus felt relieved

When he let his boulder roll down the hill.

His home was lost, but my work won’t be grieved.

When I lay down to nap, I feel just thrill.

The Sisyphus of a new, modern age,

My rock rolls away when I disengage.