“FOOK OFF, REF!!” he shouts in vicious spite,
“I WAS NEVER OFFSIDE, YOU ARE JUST SHITE!!!”
Another episode from Wayne’s World
The flag was up, the ball beautifully curled.

But another yellow card, to go with the collection
for violent temper tantrums are the man’s true predilection.
He scores lots of goals, of that there is no doubt,
but the screams and abuse; what’s that all about?

Yet Wayne, it transpires, has another side,
revealed for tv by none other than his bride.
The man who resembles a potato crossed with a poggle
has a poetic charm, a romantic side, that would make your eyes boggle.

He pens poems, odes of undying love
leaves them for his beloved, as if delivered by a dove
She reads the words and goes all swooney
for the man of her dreams, sweet and tender Wayne Rooney.

“Colleen, Colleen, luv of me fookin’ life
I’m so bleedin’ happy I took yas for me wife
yer tits are gorgeous, yer thighs divine
so even though yer norra granny, I’s so fookin’ glad yas mine”

He’s soft, he’s sweet, a man of passions burning bright
declarations of love and devotion expressed in words wot he rite(s)
Even though those words are generally written in Scouse,
don’t dismiss the man as just another stinking rich louse.

Wayne Rooney is a deep and complex soul, often troubled at times
so he chooses as his release to express himself in ryhmes.
Not to be dismissed as an obstreperous northern git
he has many levels and layers, though most degenerate just to so much shit.

“I fookin’ hate Norwich City they always gimme a kick
so much fookin’ aggro, makes me fookin sick.
So I scored three, made another, punched the goalie in the arm
all for my love of you, so gerron yer knees and thrill me with yas charm”

The next Lord Byron, though he never scored more goals than Bobby Charlton.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx