Football

Boys of twenties, nearly men

Played on a patchy field with sand

Yet they find it oh so grand

As if playing for supporters at the stands

Legs that weren't as sharp as they were

Speed of running not that sheer

Yet these we consider mere

Cos everyone, every friend is here

Goals weren't the utmost target

It is the time we could never forget

It is the teamwork with each team mate

And the errors and jokes together we made

There were times when the sky pour down

Made the pitch murky muddy brown
Yet it did not made us frown

As mud on us felt like king with a crown

I always miss the time that I played football during Holidays with my brothers at Esplanade. It is that special feeling that I will treasure and hope for more every coming holiday...