The man with the rock

I could almost see it today.
The drops seem so far
So yellow
So red
Running through a stream
Of nothingness
That I forget and keep remembering
Like a curse
Like the myth of the man with the rock
I know his name, but can't spell it right
Don't want to google it.
He's the man with the rock on his eternal way
To the highest mountain
Only to find himself back down
Come morning.
Wish we could have our mornings back
My mornings back
I hate them anyway.
It's the weight of everything
Comes crashing
Like that rock
That that man let slip.
I could ask him why
But I'm crushed under the weight of the boulder
It's amazing I'm still breathing
It is.