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Unsettled by a goal drought which
Must seem quite neverending,
And thwarted on the football pitch
By resolute defending,
He moaned his way through half the game,
Until he took the walk of shame.
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Two weeks prior, young Wesley had
Suffered the same fate,
Provoked by refereeing [bad]
And linesmen [hardly great],
And so his childish rush of blood
Though, not condoned, was understood.
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But Sunday night against the Drogs,
There weren’t the same excuses.
Sadly we went to the dogs,
And suffered the abuses.
For waving arms and moaning tongue
Display a temper highly strung.
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Weso’s lesson wasn’t learnt,
For dishing out the verbals.
Pointing fingers will get burnt
If aimed at Josef Goebbels.
Referees are not inclined
To answer foul abuse in kind.
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Three points were lost. How dear might they
Be at the season’s finish?
With every petulant display
Our title hopes diminish.
For if we are not playing well,
Then character should be made tell.
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And Ollie leapt into the fray
And had to be restrained.
And in the cold, clear light of day
What have his actions gained?
And prejudicial claims endorsed.
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But Jayo’s actions cost us dear,
And furthermore he’s banned.
But the fans who chose to clap and cheer
I cannot understand.
Despite the fact he harmed our cause,
They gave him rapturous applause.
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Once again, the Shelbourne name
Is dragged down in the mud,
Arming those who hate our fame
And see in us no good.
And all those cliches laid to rest,
Are dusted down and re-expressed.