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.