The Football
¶ 1
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I fly across the pitch at a hundred miles an hour,
Then I fly higher than even the Eiffel Tower,
I land upon the pitch with a thud and a bang and a bounce,
Watch all the players then jump on me and tackle me and pounce,
I escape , but I’m kicked and I roll quite fast, straight along the floor,
Then everyone jumps up with a shout, “At last! Our team has scored!”
But I can’t shout and scream like them, nor can I cry or call,
Because you see, for afterall, I am what is called a ball.
¶ 2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Lucy Morgan 7EB
12
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