Joga Bonito

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A boy with his ball
Only 12 years of age
Dribbles on cracked land
A poor village his stage

He plays every day
Hopingg to go far
To represent his country
So he raises the bar

His moves so creative
Like music on his soles
The incredible ways he scores
Between trashcan goals

He's soon known by many
His name shouted in the streets
To Rio de Janeiro
To play with the elite

His style's so different
The ball seems to float
His feet light the stadium
And that's all the press wrote

He recieves his new jersey
The pride of Brazil
The youngest by far
A leading role to fill

He knows the game well
And shows them his cunning
The announcers on TV
Can only say "stunning!"

His play stays the same
So clever and quick
The same as his teammaes
They all seem to click

They blow through the best
Brazil cannot lose
In the World Cup Final
Top story of the news

He gave meaning to the phrase
"The Beautiful Game"
With the winning goal
Pele was his name





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thomasd1 said...
Apr. 19, 2011 at 12:07 pm
this poem is rawwwww
 
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