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The Losers Of The MLS Final

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 NewYork, a fall from the sky, wounded.
The cold, cold soil — an autumn in California, dimming
As sorrows and tears, mixed to make sweetness taste foul.
A hard fought day, filled with wails and pains
Lingered in the miserable hearts of the Red Bulls,
Only to haunt them till a new sun, born next year.
NewYork, a fall from the sky, wounded.

Notes

New York 1
Columbus 3

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-losers-of-the-mls-final/