Gloat

What's the price of privilege?
Turning blind eye on the left  
behind
and the left behind
supping from the right  
side of the bowl.
I wouldn't mind if it didn't ensure we were speaking in opposites,
more and more we are, lines aren't blurred, people don't play the midfield.  
Tribes are out in force
and I
am on a losing team.
We've been losing a long time, my entire voting career I've proudly screamed, red  
in the face, from a pew with a pencil in hand.  
Your blue
eyes catch mine and I know
we didn't choose the same,  
his green  
eyes catch mine and I know,  
we are divided yet on the same team.  
The earth is quiet, all clicked  
on silent
and I wonder how long I'll keep losing
before I don't care to fight anymore.