Growing up in the rundown backstreets-
Kicking around a plastic milk bottle:
Football. Yet I forget my origins
Of where I was first put in clean sheets.
An Español footballer, yet already relegated to the conference:
The conference and conflict between my madre and mi padre-
Fighting. It's not looking hopeful that Padre won't get a red card for a hard challenge.
I stayed out late: training.
The coach thinks I'm good-
Good enough for a team, a team at a higher level than I'm playing at.
His team- the under 14's.
The big leagues- bring mucho pressure.
Padre couldn't handle the pressure. Taking an early bath after running from his problemas.
I will be able too.
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Poetry
PoesiaPoetry by James Matthews includes all his best poems plus special previews of his new works
