Some limerick thoughts this morning on Super Bowl forty four.
With pride the fans came to the bowl,
believing their team could control,
The ball on the ground,
in the air around,
But just for one the bell would toll.
Some think it’s the ultimate game,
With the players getting the fame
Bowl Forty and four,
Some wanted some more,
Next year will the teams be the same?
Today it's the loosers with woes
and healing the scrimmaging blows
With media hypes,
And one or two snipes
The losers, their bragging, now stowed.
Reporters were witty and bright,
covering each side with delight.
The Colts and the Saints
Their might be complaints
With loosers accepting their plight.
In this life of struggle and fears,
In this time of terror and tears
We needed this game,
to help us stay sane
Miami did send us the cheers.
The season is over and done,
the heart never caring who won,
The game is the thing,
by hoping to bring
a code of competitive fun.
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