EPTThe bracelet hangs heavily on his wrist
The memory of moments barely kissed
Through hopes and dreams it tore,
The light touches and the instants missed
And perfect passes turned into assists,
And the waving flags wave no more.
The entire nation’s eyes on a single man,
From the president’s to faraway fans’,
To a sea of red’s wistful red glare,
The empty feeling of another four years,
The gradual drying of hard-worked tears,
And a depression you cannot compare.
To one nation’s thundering applause,
To one nation’s disapproving pause,
Glory, in a second, to shame.
To the eleven’s despair all concurred,
To the million’s despair all over the world,
Wrapped in tears they came.
The fly back home silenced and grieving,
Not expecting anything
of a welcome receiving
But they land,
A drowning sea of red greeting them,
A cacophony of cheers and
A million grateful eyes meeting them
Humbled,
They bow.
Then they cry.
The full extent of their dreams shattered but,
This was theirs and nothing else mattered.
Take down your flags,
Wear them upon your back
Proudly
And return home as heroes.
No one is disappointed.
Everyone is proud.
Thank you.
