1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 for all those devoted to the poets teamgame.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 He awakes to the sound of R.O.A.R.S.
He is utterly alone.
He never gets applause.
He stands aloof and apart.
The arbiter.
Whose whistle speaks –
such that even loud-mouthed
Bastards shut-up.
He is dressed all in black.
The MatchMaker.
Who sensibly allows artists and ballplayers to become
Football Poets.
He makes the crowd jump.
Only whistles when absolutley necessary.
The game flows beautifully.
Both sides hate him! Managers often hate him.
And yet – each player knows that without him
The game is pure chaos, not an archy,
And who wants that?

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/referee-2/