A Comment on the Ethics of Millionaire Footballers

' I wuz innocent' he cries,
his hands upraised in righteousness,

the gun still smoking in his right hand,
a handful of his opponent's shirt in his left,

his arm smeared with mud from the ball's illicit touch,
his boot toecapped in the sunlight,

gleaming wet with his rival's blood

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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