The Beautiful Game

Stepping on the field
This belongs to me
It is where
I am in control.

Long before I came here
I have prepared for this day
I reach down
Pluck the grass from the earth
Feel the energy of the moment

Nothing else matters now
It’s only about this
This is the beginning
The beginning of something great

Walk to the centerline
Turn and view the pitch.
The others who stand with me
In this battle
Prepared for what is to come.

I see the same in them
As I feel
No one else understands
They cannot share this

This is our fight
It is our moment
It is what we know
What we live for

The whistle sounds
Ball advances
It has begun

The Beautiful Game

I love this poem because it describes the game almost perfectly. I agree with the writer that it is like a battle and no one else understands. It is what we live for and, to me anyway, is a beautiful game. This poem represents my favorite hobby and it also represents a part of me. This poem titled The Beautiful Game is by a poet named Joseph Furdeck.