She smells like perseverance
Her presence is the epitome of cohesion
Her voice is harmonious- a perfect network of sound waves working together to produce support
She brings people together, and although there are many others who strive
to come close to her significance-
she is the only one who constructs her importance
She is assembled of moments
She drinks tears,
and eleven cups of dedication
She does not know weather.
She knows all languages,
except temperature is a foreign one.
She is colorful,
in not just her appearance
but also in her actions.
Many have met her,
and for those who haven’t,
they are strangers to the rest of the world.
Her embrace is a strong one.
You have to be vigilant
If you’re held too hard
you might spend the rest of your life
unable to be held again,
with permanent incapability
of enjoying her grasp
and only watching from a distance
as others dance in her atmosphere
She knows many
who make friends with their feet
and carry determination in their sweat
She feels stories
of struggles conquered
when someone sends her
an intent mass of leather
She is receiver of a giver
and home to a keeper
Tell me
Who can hear the sound of the vuvuzela horn
and bear the hearts of eleven men
Tell me
who is that who moves with controversy
but produces results worth waiting for
Tell me
who can make one second
last for minutes
Tell me
who can touch
a little boy in africa
and reach
a old man in arizona
Her whisper is the air
and gets thicker every four years
Her style is spraypaint and scraped knees,
despair and euphoria,
dreams both forgotten and made
Soccer,
football,
futbol,
fussball,
Her names taste like necessity
against the common humans tongue
Maybe thats why
the world needs her.
Maybe thats why
I love her.
