The scores of people on every
side, cheer their team on.
The only event where both sides are
United
in, not only uniform,
But their
Goal.
Their shared desire to
Win.
To be physically, and tactically,
Superior.
On the battlefield, the Generals lead their
Troops
with admirable conduct.
Their only weapons, the skills the have learnt.
Shots rifle from every angle, and
people are injured left, right, and centre.
Still the surrounding supporters
Argue.
Jeer.
And mock.
We’re trying to win and we’re
Fighting the clock.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sport is like war, but much more civilized... at least nobody dies (usually) . Nice metaphor! Brian