GAME ON...

CATEGORY

With Patrick Henry vigor, I screamed out,

No victory!  No peace!

Ironically, my fate, like Patrick Henry’s, was

Equally matched;

The victory I sought died; bleeding breathless

In the streets;

And the peace I hopefully craved didn’t see

The next day’s light.

But there is a new dawn on the horizon—hidden

By a hued cloud;

Whose rain is metamorphosing into the hailing of

Balls of liberation:

Remember Meshach, Shadrach, and Abednego

In the fiery furnish

And don’t forget Daniel with the shield of hope;

And the sword of faith!

We’ve been outed on the bases of freedom with

Throws to home plate;

We’ve been blocked, caught in double dribbles and

Slammed dunked with injustices;

But I’m a kicker they can’t block; for they’re watching

My feet and not my head;

My eyes are on the prize; my feet running the field;

My head punting to the goal!