Monday, October 26, 2009

Three minute hero

Like Alan McLoughlin, it could’ve been permanent,
His name writ forever in Ireland’s bright firmament.
There could’ve been fireworks, a legend forever,
Writ loud in the annals of Irish endeavour.

So closed to attaining that scarce immortality,
Snatched cruelly away by the jaws of banality,
St. Ledger, your hands were out grasping the crown,
Till Alberto Gilardino’s late blow struck you down.