Dreams
¶ 1
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In all my life I never once dreamed
about the bittersweet, drag-you-through-the-mud
punch-you-in-the-belly, stab-you-in-the-back
travesty of relegation.
Instead my dreams were full
of blue cotton kit
and fancy sideburns;
of the latest boots, all luxury leather and tornado stitching;
of star studded elevens, where I shone the brightest
and bagged a galaxy of goals;
where wizards on the wings supplemented my talents
and where my aura was both majestic – and bewitching
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