The clock strikes zero and upon the field…
By Brian Patrick Roach
Eleven heads hang low in heart breaking
Loss on a tear, sweat, blood, bruised grid-iron
That echoes it’s witnessed courage through souls
Of young men triumphant despite defeat.
Win not a win if your blood has not been shed and stained grass
proud.
Loss not a loss if left between those two goal lines lays your heart.
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