Oh Sisyphus, let me lend you a hand,nfor I have no plans, or a rock of my own.nHow I envy your role, of impending parole,nsuch meaning is far more than I've come to grasp.nnOh but I am free to come and go as I please,nwith no lifelong lessons to plague or burden me.nWhile my boulder grows and grows, its presence is unknown,nand I ascend that hill to find, an ignorance that I wasn't looking for.nSo take me down to potter's field.nLay me atop the vagabonds.nThe worthless of the ill-accomplished,nhas no relation to where my soul resides