1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Everything will be o.k
once Saturday comes.
Even though I saw red
I’m over the parrot now.
It’s been gone long enough.
I was sick as the moon
at the time, when it left.
Pale and pasty, wan looking.
But now I’m recovered
I’m chirpy as a chip,
happy as a budgie,
bright as a fish at
the end of a long button.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 I was in acres of space
when the flag went up.
And if I’m honest there
was only ever going to be
one outcome. It was clinical.
They thought it was all over
but I got sucked into the net
after eating all the decisions.
It was a harsh pie, more
important than death
but then I’m biased.
It’s a half of two games.
One game – it’s Ballfoot.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/ballfoot/