Robbie Fowler

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I am lost.
Oh sweet pleasure, saccharine bliss.
Who hast stolen you from my dessert spoon,
just as anticipation tickled
and played upon my lips?
Desolation grips me in his great fist,
and squeezes until bloody
tears of grief
are forced from my eyes.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Robbie Fowler
Robbie Fowler
Where for art thou
Robbie Fowler?

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Oh how my heart bleeds
Since that day
You went to Leeds


I apologise sincerely for the lack of effort that went into this nonsense.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/robbie-fowler/