The Field

The field is amazing.
From the day preparing,
To the night light.
The field gets mowed before the game.
Then the lines and numbers are painted.
The field is astonishing.
When we run onto it,
The shiny gold helmets run out,
And cover the field.
The sound of the opponent's helmets
Clashing with our helmets.
After the game,
The field is ugly and torn up.
So, the fans go home,
The lights go out.
The field has yet another game to come,
The next week the same thing happens,
Over and over again.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem