Reader
Football.txt
poetry/Football.txt
Football
That was it. He has not moving anymore
The horizons streched away into indefinateness
Clouds smudged the pale sky as a golden orb
Burned
Gentle rays into the field
And into Him
No. He was definately still against the hard earth
There was a motion on the horizon
It came towards him, unstoppable, improbable and
Graceful
He surmised its collision
And was right
Now he was moving
The forgotten pain of impact
Was nothing at all compared to
Flight
Where was the had earth now?
He thought
Not only moving, he was literally flying
Air, gentle air, eddies and streams rushing past
A white and blackened body that
Floated
Without effort, without worry
Without control
What goes up…