He's going back to Cleveland,
to set the nets on fire;
he's tired of the Heat,
he's lost all the desire.
In good old North Ohio,
he'll be welcomed by the crowd;
they fall all over themselves,
and call his name out loud.
He's returning to the city,
where he's never won a ring;
causing wild emotions,
as people jump and sing.
He's the greatest in the world,
at what he does...he's best;
he's passed with flying colors,
nearly each and every test.
If you are called a Buckeye,
then you've nothing more to fear;
cause LeBron James is going to be,
a Cleveland Cavalier.
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Comments about this poem (King James by David Lessard )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1753 – 5 December 1784)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1644 - 1694)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Robert Louis Stevenson
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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