Holding Back The Fears.
¶ 1
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With a shrug of the shoulders
A glance toward the bench
Hope hails a cab and tears off
The pain’s almost over
Yet still you dance on
To Slim Chance, and His Who Might Do What?
¶ 2
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Rain tipping down
Clouds your vision
Not enough though, you wryly reflect
Yet you’ve journeyed to some town
Forgoing television
Just to be there, in a show of respect.
¶ 3
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On the schlep here
With hope sat amongst you
Reliving, where the season went wrong
Your vision was clear
Only three points would do
To enable scant hope to grow strong.
¶ 4
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Watching the pre-match
Whilst sipping hot coffee
The lads seem in pretty good spirits
As they walk off you clap
Then try to think positive
“With a win here today we might do it.”
¶ 5
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When the second crashed in
You were downcast
With your goalie face down in the mud
Whilst the four men defending
Gave your keeper no chance
Though in truth that free kick was a scud.
¶ 6
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The end to your troubles
Is almost in sight,
When the referee crosses his arms
You stare at stark puddles,
Trudge off in to the night
And think, “With our next game at home, we’ve a chance
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