I caught them at their game.
They said it was right to do what they did.
The children were cheated with their unfair opponents.
They didn't like that I showed them their errors.
They are too big to fight, but I stood my ground.
After the smoke cleared and the wounds bandaged, my children won victoriously and righteously.
The big people didn't like that either.
They went back to their huddle and declared us wrong.
They took away my chances of success once again by denying me a voice and a duty.
They have the power to say that wrong is right.
I stood my ground and have paid the price.
My name is Mud and I play with a "black ball".
I don't kiss, but only on the cheek and sometimes on the lips.
They are probably not familiar with being kissed anywhere near there.
Public schools are a jungle of wrongs and rights.
It's too bad that wrong has all the power and the rights are little squashed spots under their feet.
So, what if my name is Mud and my ball is black. At least I know I'm not one of them.
It is tough being one of the little guys in the mix of powerful thugs.

I'm not sure I want to play the game anymore. A man can only take so much of their abuse. Maybe God has me where He wants me. I don't really know. Unless, this is the only Hell I'm to experience until I'm with him?

P.S. Be ready for some suffering when you go and try to do what is right among those who don't care about what is right.

...............

-- rod (elreyrod@yahoo.com), August 20, 2004

Answers

Take my dignity, take my pride, take my identity, and take my work, but hey, my soul belongs to Someone Else.

.........

-- rod (elreyrod@yahoo.com), August 20, 2004.