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The mind plays tricks

Peter Goulding

Tuesday, July 17th, 2012

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 It isn’t easy being old
(hair is thinning, hair is greying)
My poor brain is growing mould
and I’m not sure who we’re playing.
But things are really getting bad
(getting scary, getting twisted)
when you tell me that the Mons game
never actually existed.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 In my mind I see Mons score
(with a penno, firmly struck in)
and I’m disappointed, for
they have scarcely had a look in.
But then Paddy gets one back
(with a simple little tap-in)
but now I know I’m going mad because
you say it didn’t happen.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 It isn’t easy being old
(body’s slowing, body’s aging)
I get wrinkly, I get cold,
I start impotently raging.
And I still see Casso’s chip
(fans are yelling, fans are beaming)
but I’m living in a bubble, for
it seems that I was dreaming.

© Peter Goulding 17th July 2012

Notes

Monaghan United have dropped out of the league mid-season and all their matches so far declared null and void

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-mind-plays-tricks/