Dirt

They told me I didn't have it.
That Spark. That Resilience.
That Strength that comes from moving mountains.
Jumping hurdles. Overcoming boundaries.
They said I couldn't do it.
Wasn't capable, aware, determined.
Didn't have the iron tinted blood that ran through the veins of warriors.
Or the Grit of the oppressed, the weary, the brave.
Mediocrity was what I was.
The dirt that they merely laid their feet upon.
They.
The great.
The wise.
The invincible.
But even dirt serves a purpose.
For dirt is the foundation upon which empires are born.
Dirt is that which all originate from.
Dirt is that which nourishes life.
Dirt is that which I aspire to be.
Dirt.