by Simon Icke | Jun 10, 2010 | Poetry
Down our street it’s ever so neat, You rarely hear the sound of childrens’ feet. Tidy gardens and pretty flowers, No factory chimneys or towers. Commuters who come home in their company cars, That look at us as though we’re from mars. We are supposed...
by Simon Icke | Jun 10, 2010 | Poetry
Here comes Tubby Jones Bringing out the cones. ‘Will Tubby be playing today?’ His mother said. ‘It all depends on how much he’s been fed!’ I felt such a nit, When I told her he wasn’t fit. ‘I would love to play him in a game,...
by Simon Icke | Jun 10, 2010 | Poetry
“Football! Football! Football!” That’s all I ever hear, “Football! Football! Football!” Being shouted in my ear, “Football! Football! Football!” Lots of sweaty fans, “Football! Football! Football!” All those waving...
