1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I was always a back street hero
In my mind and in my dreams
A genius in handed down boots
On rough cobbled streets
Kicking a ball against white washed goalposts
On grime stained gable ends
In the shadow of the colliery
Where later, my dreams would be buried
To be replaced by grim reality.


Memories of my boyhood living in a North East of England mining village.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/reality-2/