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[Poem] Better Late Than Tomorrow
Is it not funny how football tells us about us? That people would be playing on a pitch, Then a ball would be hit, The ball would travel long distance, In the freaking air! Travel inside the space of nothing. And slaps the inner cheek. Goals, swerves to score. It only takes practice. Nobody gives me everything. Nobody is my everything. I am everything, I can do. I can, by consistent practice. I am capable of everything. Today is always the bestest start, For that practise. Better late than tomorrow.