In a worn-out chair with memories deep,
An old man sits, his passion to keep.
His eyes sparkle with tales of gold,
Of football glories, victories bold.
Scarves of his team, worn and frayed,
In his heart, the victories replayed.
Old programs stacked, a cherished treasure,
Each goal celebrated, a moment to measure.
In dusty corners, jerseys hang,
Legends alive in his nostalgic pang.
He recalls matches, fierce and grand,
A symphony of cheers across the land.
His wrinkled hands, a season's guide,
Through victories and defeats, side by side.
The roar of the crowd, the whistle's call,
In every heartbeat, a football thrall.
His room, a shrine of the beautiful game,
An old man's love, like an eternal flame.
He smiles, as if reliving a dive,
"Football keeps me alive."
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Comments (2)
I am glad to hear that football keeps you alive. I am too a football fan. I invite you to read my poem on football.
Delightful!