Poetry

The Beautiful Game

I love the feel of my cleats

The trashed ones for practice,

The fresh ones for games.

I love the feel of a perfect field

The grass we use to warm up,

The turf we sprint on for game day.

I love the feel of a soccer ball

The ping of a perfect pass,

The blast of an amazing shot.

I love the cheering crowds

The stands erupting after a goal,

The screaming at an unfair call.

I love the feeling of winning

The blowouts and the gritty matchups alike,

The soccer team and season I share it with.

I

love

you,

The beautiful game

Dear Momma

The bond we share

I cannot replace

The feeling of care

 Embraces in my face

You try your best,

And it’s clear to see

The wonderful things

You do for me

I hope one day

I can do the same

Repay, if I may

The one who chose my name

I am forever grateful

To have you by my side

One who is never hateful

With love that cannot hide

You give me hope

That I forever pray

The ways you act dope

 Never go away

When you are by my side

 You stick like glue

I am grateful for you mom

I will always love you

Stuck

The door always closed, and

He doesn’t want anybody in

He’d rather be alone

The floor is a mess, but

He has come to terms with it

The atmosphere is irreversible

A loss of motivation,

This isn’t something new

It ebbs and flows from time to time

He forgets when it started

It’s a feeling he’s felt for a long time

And it may never go away