My poem 3

Football Field


I'm running around on this field.

I see the ball in the air.

It is comming fast, just like express mail.

The ball lands in my hands, and says "You've got mail".

Now that I have this mail I am taking it to the end of town.

I hear the fans screaming with profound sounds.

I can see the endzone, im running like I'm on sails.

I score! I give the ball to the other coach and say "Man, I hate junk mail".


By: Tyler Robinson