Trafficked Stars : A Sports Poetry


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Days of no food
Times of no help
Daily, searching for the help
In coach form he came
Technical team, jogging things
Run the race, a dribble, a pass
Tendor, veins starts to slack
Put yourself in order.
He said, and thats an order.

Days of no food
Trying to cross the border
All expense paid trip we heard
Till date, questions to ask we never border
Till date, legibility, we never ask
Fools taking us as fools
Stupidity gloomy as the moon
Fame blocked face, glory hungry youths
Days of no food
Till date, promised land reached by just few.

Try your luck, journey by the desert
Free for all, skills is the money
Those who went got nothing
Depressed, failed, they roam the field
Talents wasting, skills died
on the sean crossing for a better life
in the desert, looking for a greener pasture.
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A poem to commemorate all those who have lost there lives in search of greener pasture, most especially in football.

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