Palace of Tears
¶ 1
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In the fanfare seasons when we get spoiled,
delight openly weeps.
A change from the usual stress attacks,
brought on by a lack of clean sheets.
¶ 2
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Not a tin pot, or F.A. Cup,
or division won in years.
Disappointment sits, stares, and lingers
behind sunken red eyes and blue tears.
¶ 3
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Elegantly euphoric promotions,
and grandiose upsets,
take centre stage with stellar players
who we’ve wept for once they’ve left.
¶ 4
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Comedic defence and bovine strikers
bring wicked cries of laughter.
This we accept is who we truly are,
and it’s for us to rightly remember.
¶ 5
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Like asking an ocean to dismiss
some of the rivers which bring it life.
If we can’t cry with joy and pain,
then the stars might as well ignore the night.
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