The quarterback makes the call
Ready with his chest out
He's standing tall
He catches the snap
The defender misses the tackle
He needs a map
The quarterback sees daylight
He hits the hole with all his might
He glides across the turf
It's like he's taking flight
But now he really is
He could be mistaken for a kite
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem