At The Game

Anfield, Home of Liverpool F.C.

 

 

The pulse of the game

The clamour of crowds

The thrill of neat skill

It is this we come for

 

The throb of the chant

The hush of the lull

The roars that soar

It is this we come for

 

The crash of the seats

The stomp of the feet

The joy that flows

It is this we come for

 

The glow of the goal

The tingle like love

The prospect of more

It is this we come for

 

It is this we come for.

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Filed under Culture, Poetry, Thoughts

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