Poem

The crowd has a roar, that no one has heard before. As we jump to get the juices flowing, out of no where my team starts glowing.

It’s game seven on a Saturday night, We want to win but we have a bit of fright, with fright comes fight, and with fight comes a night that will never be forgotten.

After four quarters of what seemed to be a war, we have never felt like this before, the confetti falls from up so high, tonight we played with joy and tears But only to be filled with cheers.