I cry

Left begging, as always, tread upon,
Arms raised pleading for answers,
Pushed down under the heap of refuse,
Gaining strength in spurts.
Forced to the edge of the cliff,
Struggling to crab hold of the hands that push,
Fearing the fall looming up from behind,
And trying to shove back with confidence of purpose.
I am not below nor am I above,
I am not you and you are not me,
I am not afraid, and I am not brave,
I am in pain, yet I am driven to overcome.
I cry.