Living in the south, football is a part of our weekly routine. Tailgating begins hours before kick off (the game) And here in Louisiana we praise Saban's loss just as much as our LSU win. Why? Because we bleed purple and gold. We are proud to be apart of the SEC. Hell Organ might have Nike as a sponsor, But we eat grass for breakfast. This may not apply to all. Of all people I certainly can relate. LSU is evident upon my chest. No not a logo, no not a t-shirt. You see purple stands for the ruptured blood vessels within my body, and skin that familiar gaudy shade of yellow gold.You could say I was a one manned team with no protection against a furious, intoxicated woman. My ears ring with the familiar screams that day, the words, the tackles, the plays, the jabs and the crooked look her face made. As hard as i tried to stand out of her way, to make all of the correct plays. It mattered not for her support couldn’t understand her calls, and my previous player did more than make several yellow flag moves. It didn’t matter that I tried my best. Only I was left to stand and take all that she gave. All because she couldn’t understand not having control over the game.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
control the self here, all truth is there.