The Eight Percenters
¶ 1
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Shall I weep for the Eight Percenters?
Those citizens of the F8?
Some have seen glory repeat!
Still, others wait,
like our next two kings.
Have they suffered enough
from the inherited joy
that made Gascoigne cry
when he was a boy?
Is Spain more sympathetic now
just because it has won?
Is its loss less bearable than ours;
we who have none?
Some, like us, seldom qualify,
leaving billions in the wilderness,
clinging to cricket, hockey or, worse, work
as if football really were not so important
in the grand scheme.
But what of your team?
Croatia, Sweden, Bulgaria,
Belgium, Poland, Portugal,
Russia, the Czechs,
Chile, Austria, Hungary,
the Dutch and Turks have come close,
while Ghanaians and Cameroonians teased,
and Danes and Koreans pleased.
Did they not ache in their day?
Are they not as worthy of our tears?
Aye, but I shall weep,
for while the rest of us sleep
the Eight Percenters count the cost
As one only can when he knows what he’s lost.
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