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Five Thousand To One

Trent Morris

Wednesday, May 4th, 2016

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 When the last piece of grass
comes to pass, for more turf,
and these images fade
in dimension,
and the stadium roof,
as more proof we once played,
must stay closed as they pray
for invention;
when the world has one league
that’s so big that they search
for some players
who aren’t of this system,
and the managers chase
talent from outer space
and scouts scour the stars
to enlist them,
then some ‘Bot on the set
we have not thought of yet
will refer to a Champion’s run,
and say “It’s not the best,” or
“A long way from Leicester,”
who triumphed,
five thousand to one.

© 2016

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/five-thousand-to-one/?share=google-plus-1