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Becks to the future
2:16pm Wednesday 4th January 2012 in Poems
‘Father dear,’ said Romeo in 2022,
‘What team shall I play for,
Now I’m grown like you?
Should I play for Real Madrid
Or should it be Manyou?’
‘No, my son, that’s no fun,
Why not play for Crewe?’
Mrs Becks walked in and said:
‘Why not play for who?’
‘Oh my gosh,’ said Becks to Posh,
‘I thought you were in Venice.’
‘I was, but now I’m back in Britain
For a game of tennis’
‘Mother dear,’ said Romeo,
‘Sit down with us here.
The three of us can now discuss
My footballing career
‘Now tell me, my dear parents,
If I play in attack
‘What number should be printed:
On the Beckham back?’
‘Well my little angel,
If you want to play in Heaven
‘Where your Father’s dreams were made,
Why not number seven?’
‘But mother dear,’ said Romeo,
‘When father off to Spain did flee
‘In Madrid, what Daddy did
Was wear a twenty – three.’
Mrs Becks and Romeo
Both looked round at Daddy.
It was Mrs B who spoke
And uttered to her hubby
‘David let us know, the number,
That you recommend for our dear Romeo.’
David Beckham cleared his throat
And croaked those words we’ve grown to know:
‘Wear four out there, Romeo?
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