1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Sitting on the park bench
With this emerald carpet unfurled in front of me.
An empty, barren landscape
Waiting to be played on.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Beside me is the ball
Nestling gently like a puppet on the end of my hand.
Controlling how I act
Becoming another imagination.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 On my own
As others flood past in ever increasing numbers.
I want to shout
Ask if they want to share this grass with me.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Growing eyes
Filled with melancholy on this island off the coast.
Kicking the ball
Could bring them in but maybe I want the space.


Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/birthday/