do you remember
back in the day
when you danced around
in your youth
wearing your kit
from head to toe.
when the game was all
just football
just love and great goals
when money was a paperound
and cheating was for criminals
not your heroes
when an affair was in Hollywood
to own a foreign shirt
was a holiday abroad
names on your back
were bought in cheap booths
in cheap seaside towns
you bought your first kit
and that was it
the be-all-and-end-all
the kiss of death
the badge of life
no matter the strife
when football was played out
in the park
or on the back pages
front page headlines
left to politics
or natural disasters
disasters, disasters
the game a disaster
maybe it's me
all grown up
shorn of youthful bliss
when the badge was kissed
by me and me only
maybe it is me
the adult with callous thoughts
frivoulous youth obsolete
or maybe
just maybe
the game is up
the whistle blown
no morales shown
exploded, imploded
lost in a world
where wealth and greed
are paramount
and you, and me
the crazed fan
the every man
the man with the van
are sold down the river
of corporate greed
of gluttonous need
lust and longing
and those players
we once adored
are bereft of all their
childish glory.
