I rest on this peg.
How I hate it so.
This miserable waiting that I do loath.
Waiting for nothing, anticipating the same
Disappointment aroused from Man’s dreadful game.
The light shines on me when the door cracks open.
But never too long.
The darkness returns again.
I hate being sorted, so categorized.
Thrown on the rack, left there to die.
I hate it because no matter what Man might say:
Equal freedoms, rights, equal powers and pains,
Ties are never equal.