Hard But Fair
How many more rhymes, about football, can I churn out
I know the ideas will, slow down, absolutely no doubt
So before that happens, to this humble writer
I’ll carry on, to prove, from the local side, I was the fighter
Even though, I had my fair share, of delicate silky skill
When chasing the ball down, I went in for the kill
A tackle by me, was like, being hit by, a squadron of tanks
Never, did the opposition, ever, offer the usual thanks
They were usually holding, parts, your author had connected
And, berating refs, for never making them feel, protected
But I never broke the laws, in games or tackles
The other team, must’ve thought, I lived in shackles
For what would happen to them, in any game, I was playing
That reason alone, they would start each game, by praying
