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Manchester United Community » ManUtd.com » United Legends » Munich Remembered » poem
  • 15 Nov 2009 11:32 PM

    Re: poem

    Great poems! Big Smile
    Reply
  • 15 Nov 2009 5:45 AM

    Re: poem

    Great poems....Because of the font color being changed, the second poem got jumbled up.....It has happened to me....But, great effort....Smile

    B E L I E V E
    Reply
  • 10 Nov 2009 12:58 AM

    Re: poem

    I like this thread just stumbled across it using some of the new options on the forum
    Reply
  • 27 Nov 2008 7:52 AM

    Re: poem

     Well doneYes  Great poems
    Reply
  • 21 Nov 2008 8:09 AM

    Re: poem

    another poem: (made it myself)

    Roger Byrne, best captain of all,

    On the 5th of February he last saw a ball.

    David Pegg, dashing down the wing,

    Full-backs he played against couldn’t mark a thing.

    Tommy Taylor, simply world-class,He could shoot, cross, defend and pass.Eddie Colman, nicknamed snakehips,His name was on every Mancunian’s lips.Big Dunc Edwards, greatest ever seen,Better than Best, Cantona, Ronaldo and Keane.Liam Whelan, a Catholic through and through,He had a wand of a right foot – and a wand of a left foot too.Mark Jones, a big family ***,Don’t forget, he was more than just cover.Geoff Bent, didn’t play that last game,Without him United’s defence never was the same.Geordie Tom Curry, a coach, he made the first team smooth.Bert Whalley also a coach, but he was busier with youth.Walter Crickmer, at United for 31 years,Few people would have such loyal careers.The journalists were England’s best,Swift, Clarke, Rose, Ledbrooke, Davies, Jackson and Thompson would never again return west.Sir Bobby Charlton, with a blistering shot,In the World Cup ‘66 the best of the lot.Sir Matt Busby, father of the side,Twice he received the last rites but it wasn’t him who died.Harry Gregg, dangerously brave,he survived,

    but he didn’t win a medal he so craved.

    The survivors in redAs Sir Matt had said: “Manchester United will rise again.” But we will always feel the pain.

     
    Reply
  • 19 Nov 2008 7:10 PM

    poem

                     Les Diables Rouge

     

     From blood sweated tiers

    the roar from the devils acolytes descends into the theatre

    magnificent gladiators emblazoned in red acknowledge the crowd.

     

    and not far away

    from a snowy grave

    eight young devils are ressurected.

     

    Devils

    with flights of dreams not realised

    but sleep they will.

     

    and not far away in the theatre of dreams

    the red devils

    are ressurected.

     

    a banner proclaims the event, frozen in time

    while the acolytes voice the unheard

    we will never die, we will never die...
    Reply
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