Samantha is open,
But I am surrounded
I swift pass the ball to and fro between my feet
Slightly tripping over my opponents cleats
I’m coming closer to the goal
I pass to the left
And it gets chugged at me with great ease
I hear I’m open, I’m open
I’m so close I should be able to make it.
Breath
Goal.
Bad game
Nice pass
I come to the one that matters most
Sure, you were ok, not at your best
Did you fail?
I have to say…
Yes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem