February 25 reminded me of my soccer days.
The moment the ball touched my feet.
The crosses I sent into the box,
Perfect every time.
The first match that I ever played.
First red card that I ever got,
The look that my coach had,
Disbelief, disappointment, maybe even pride.
February 25 reminded me of my soccer days.
Running Running Running
Running down the wing.
Running with the ball.
Running alone.
Running Running Running,
Running to my post,
Running to the box,
Running to make a foul.
Running Running Running
Running to score,
Running to save,
Running to take the ball.
February 25 reminded me of my soccer days.
The peace of walking onto the pitch.
The pride of walking off.
The quiet before kickoff.
The crisp air, the scent of grass,
This is what I was made for.
No celebrations, no grief.
Because I had the belief,
That I pushed hard.
That I gave it all.
February 25 reminded me of my soccer days.
Everytime, it felt like magic.
Whether it was a cold practice,
Or the heat of the league,
It pulled me somewhere far away.
Whether it was just me,
Or something bigger than me
February 25 reminded me of the magic
And I don’t like it.
I don’t like what I can’t see.
You can call me a coward,
Or a control freak.
Magic magic magic
I love you but I can’t touch you.
I know you but I never saw you.
Once I tried to hold you,
Why didn’t you hold me back?
February 25 reminded me of the magic
And all the other times that I felt it.
May 18.
December 19.
January 23.
February 25 reminded me of the magic,
And I can’t lie, I’m not loving it.
February 25 reminded me of the magic,
And I want to hold on to it….
February 25 taught me that,
When you see it all,
It loses its magic.
yusuf.direct 
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