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Legend – Poem: on the death of George Best



Legend (George Best)

Let us not talk
of genius
but celebrate
the two edged blade
of a peerless gift
from which legends
are born

This imperious Caesar’s slaves
whispered in his ear
you are a god not mere man
and so he lived our dreams
played out
our secret fantasies
and flew too close
to the consuming fire
of our desires

This flawed but
too blessed man
turned skill to art
with unreflecting joy
I am no victim
his better self declared
do not pity me
for I have kissed
the lips of lightning

He invested clichéd lies
of the beautiful game
with the ring of truth
play is our greatest joy
struggle our reward
and hard uncompromising men
with rare reluctant tears
remember not the
weak and troubled man
but the graceful beauty
of a matchless

who just loved to play

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