I am an un.
un fit,
un suited,
un worthy,
says the hesitation
that strikes the chords
of their voices.
Even though I know
my spirit is pure,
I am often inside at night,
with a hunk of stale bread
and glass of cabernet.

If spirit were met with as much joy
as knowledge, there would be so many less
un's in the world.
If un certainty as resolute as certainty,
diversity a road less overgrown.
The un familiar flora a familiar feeling,
dark green leafy nets of confident wisdom:
people helping everyone cut through,
even the un's.

But for the un's, life is not this^
Life  is trudging up a desolate hill
with no vegetation and getting
silently pushed down by other people,
who tell you that you're un fit for trudging,
un til you begin to slow down,
un til it gets muddy,
un til you only walk up when they tell you
walking to the top is good for you.

You used to walk to clear your head,

yet you long to be at the top of the hill
any way,
just so you can stop trudging,
just so you can be worth something,
to the shaking heads and closed fists,
perched and looking down
at those below.