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The Plagiarist’s Football Ode

Jon Smith

Monday, October 20th, 2008

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 We’ve wandered lonely as a cloud
To understand the rest of the crowd
And from here to meet upon the heath,
Where football fans can gnash their teeth.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Alas poor success I knew him, Hooray!
To know is to love and dream of today,
Whether to suffer the Trings and Harrows
Of outrageous pitches and rotten furrows.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 Food, food everywhere
From a hut the Burgers they’ll make.
I sated my hunger without a care
And how my gut does ache.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Floodlights, floodlights burning bright
Glaring despair as black as night.
This ancient manager is wholly dross
The entire back four, his albatross.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 There’s a whisper down the line
That he’s sacked our Number 9
And the Club are being sold to a billionaire.
But the truth’s a bitter pill,
The Number 9 is just ill
And the sale is to a butchers son from Ware.

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 And did those feet in ancient time
Walk on the terrace of the team sublime.
That do so tread as dread with fear
The relegation now that looms so near.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 The quality of mercy is not strained
It relieves the look that is so pained.
The look that says the season’s over
– For a few months now a jilted lover.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-plagiarists-football-ode/