Foot Ball Poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

Foot ball's fate is to be hit by feet
Kicks from all sides the poor is to meet.

Each team carries it to the goal of opponent
This homeless has no place permanent.

It runs, it bounds, it moves in the ground
Focus their eyes on it people around.

When a team succeeds in throwing it for a goal
Rise hues and cries resound the sky whole.

Players embrace, greet each other with joy
No one pays heed to it - -a worthless toy.

Man himself seems to be a foot ball
He actually is, therefore, I him so call.

By hit of Fate thrown into mortal-half
All things around at this poor one laugh.

Team of worldly players to death's goal carry
Now a grievous kick, now a bound merry.

All foot balls serve only one purpose of goal
Countlessly various lives, but end is sole.

Man's match ends in a draw by goals one-one
The time of match ends with the setting sun.

What we can expect from a hollow foot ball
Fallen from sky, in a ditch to fall.