Who draws the lines of this human race?
Who pulls the trigger and decides the pace?
Whose wretched hand picks who gets ahead
β and leaves the rest of us for dead?
Weβre horses in this human race
Running only for the few who place
And, no, weβll never get our shot
Weβre running just to fill our spot
For however will it seem deserved
To claim a prize they never earned?
Weβre horses in this human race
With blinders brandished on our face
And we will find once we stand tall:
This race is not a race at all
Justin Luis is a singer/songwriter currently based in Nashville, TN whose fondness for words [and in singing them!] has taken over his life!!! *please send help*
“We’re RUNNING just to fill our spot.” That one line hit me like a ton of bricks. It May not truly be a race, but Some of us move forward while the rest of us are left to wade in the stagnant waters of our misfortune. How long can we tread water before the blinders are removed, and the sun shines on our faces once more?