You think I’m a complex man,
is that who I am?
Why try and work me out,
I’ll only leave you with some doubt.
We are all unique,
Yes, both you and me,
I’m sure you agree.

I am not your modern day footballer
who collects his wages in a hay loader
from the Premier League pay loader;
aided by Sky TV and now BT money bag dream makers;
so happy to pay the fakers and the takers on and off the field.
so happy to take hard earned brass from humble folk

I’m just an ordinary man;
“I am what I am”.
What happened to the working man’s game?
hijacked by those who just seek money and fame,
which just isn’t funny,
to those who follow the game-
its a crying shame.

No I’m no trend setter,
no go getter,
no position seeker,
no power climber.
no football cheater
no racist banter
no foul mouthed ranter
no ‘prima donna’.

No I’m no crowd pleaser just a word teaser,
no people pleaser, who’s trying to fool ya.

Just a word rhymer,
a letter writer,
a campaign fighter,
maybe a ‘fire starter’,
or a motivator.

The power is in the written word,
mightier than the sword,
no streets here paved with football gold,
paid for by exploited fans;
even the poor grandads and grans.

No money to line my pockets
no gimmicks
no greedy agents
with slimy tricks,
no hangers on,

no football politics…
but an activist.

I won’t judge you,
so don’t judge me
and let me write free;
if you believe in democracy,
then let people find their own story,
that’s hidden in the football poetry
and written with honesty.