I stand there,
Waiting,
In the bitter cold,
Ready to do battle,
On a field of glass.
The general comes,
The battle commences,
But his tactics are awry,
They hinder our progress,
We become penned back.
We cannot get out,
We are trapped,
Surrounded by the enemy,
Any attempt at forward movement,
Only damages our chances further.
The ball falls at my feet,
The enemy closes in,
I do the only I can do,
I hit it as hard as I can,
It sails behind enemy lines.
I caught it sweetly,
It bends and swerves in the wind,
Before landing in the opposition goal,
Yet the general shouts angrily,
What are you doing?!
I raise my hand in triumph,
The hand that had been bloodied by battle,
But the general refuses to acknowledge my feat,
Saying, instead, that I had broken his rules,
To which my reply is, do you wish us to lose?
He gives me a look of sheer loathing,
I return it with a smirk,
For I know I am right,
If we listen to the general we lose,
If we ignore him, we win.
It's that simple.
