The Football

Politics is a river that divides the villages.
Hey soldiers!
Put down your guns and still your radios.
There is no need for handcuffs,
for warnings, for an ambush.
We are not one of you.
We are not one of them.
We just want to get across and get back our ball.

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This is a poem by Robert Burns that was sent to me by my friend Big Kev when he found out Mark had died An hoenst man here lies at rest,The friend of man, the friend of truthThe friend of age, and guide of youth:Few hearts like his, with virtue warmed,Few heads with knowledge so in formed;If there’s another world ,he lives in bliss;If there is none, he made the best of this

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