No Joke

Not everything can be comedy, so here is a poem.

Over worked
Over stressed
Over tired
Over cooked
Over it all
Reach out. Don't be afraid
Call out. It's ok
Help
I am drowning in my own success
My own dreams
A river of my own making
Stretched too thin
But not thin
Cause no focus is on me
Not me the person, me the product
All for what?
I grabbed the brass ring and
Sank to the bottom from the weight of it
If I let it go, I can kick my way back up
But, is there anyone left on the surface
To receive me?
Where is me? Who is me?
I am a farmer
My crop will never stop growing
I must never stop sowing
But, when is the time to reap?
When is the time to sleep?
Congratulations me
I made it! I made it
All the way away
So far away from who I long to be
Just me
Me without comedy
No joke