The opposition comes across the field

In many shapes and sizes

But the difficult part about opposition

To realize is

That a lot of the opposition I cannot see

Is coming to attack from behind me.

Supposed teammates with whom I am to race

Have come to try and put me in my place.

Screaming, crying, poking fun,

Destroying the work that’s been done.

Not allowing me to cross the first down of segregation,

Hoping to stay unified as one divided nation.

Complaining loudly about their captivity,

Yet not a single soul of them has ever tried to walk free.

I don’t want to turn my back on my own, but I can’t see

How I’m to move ahead in life

If they refuse to walk with me.