Soccer, The Simple Game that brings much Joy.
There goes the whistle they are pumped up to start.
The pass is recieved and the players run with all their heart.
Up in the air like a butterfly it flys and crashes down like an angry war cry
He dribbles through each opponent player in hope to score, that is the favor.
He takes a shot far and wide the goalie watches as the ball goes by.
Into the net it rests in peace, no regrets are in hands reach.
Winners leap for mounds of joy, while losers tilt their heads down low.
Far and wide fans cheer them on, oh the legacy they will carry on.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.