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Who Else ?

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Red blooded, red shirted; just like the
Matador, a red flourish – then comes a
Deadly unerring Kill.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 His arena, a stage on which to perform.
Soft feet to dance, swerve, juggle; then
Hard feet to score,

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 A ruthless persuit is useless, the ball
Stays his own, Hypnotised. As are the
Fans who glory his name.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 A face, a style, aware of his charisma.
Bypassing boots, to conjure genius in
A sweet, sublime second.

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 Gone now, history to us all. Some saw
Him, many did not – still, he lives on in
Our minds’ eye, forever.

7

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/who-else/