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Hell

Peter Goulding

Sunday, August 24th, 2003

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I got a pain and felt unwell,
And then I died and went to Hell.
Down the tunnel, falling, falling,
This was really quite appalling.
And then I stopped and looked around
And saw a run-down football ground
With uncut grass and dreadful slope.
And all the fans devoid of hope
Watched glumly, as their football team
Performing as though in a dream,
Completely failing to inspire,
Played football quite inept and dire.
They had no skill, they had no tricks.
Their only aim – to win free kicks.
When their defenders got the ball,
They’d show no enterprise at all,
But hoofed it high without control
Toward the opposition goal,
[Where their opponents, in the main,
Would simply belt it back again.]
No-one to watch, no-one to thrill,
No-one to show a bit of skill.
The spectacle made me begin
To rue my life of wanton sin,
Condemned to watch for evermore
This turgid muck in Inchicore.

© Peter Goulding 24th August 2003

Notes

Perhaps a bit unfair on St Pats.

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