The Boy,The Ball

 The boy, The Ball

Just a boy, his feet and the ball

Waiting for a whistle's call

To unleash a magic 

A magic so tragic 

That nations stare

A birth of a new Messi there!

He carries silence in his boot

A quiet secret since childhood 

The ball knows his pulse before he moves

For the initiation started with a barefoot 

And a poor mother's prayer

That if so be,be a good player 

When the sun shines on his body 

His black skin gleams with a reflection 

On the thousand Miles Goddy 

Has run with God's own perfection 

These old streets of Nakatunya

Taught him grace 

A golden feature to embrace 

First when no one watched 

Dribbling silent cones

And hurting his bones 

Hope for the future was thin

And reality sharp like a pin

But persistence has made him

The star every young player sees

Goddy Miles,a player traveling overseas!

(Dedicated to Goddy Miles)

-TimmyPoet 🇺🇬