Ruwa

In Manchester's heart, where dreams collide,

A man named Ruwa, in red, takes pride.

In the clash of titans, a fierce delight,

West Ham stands strong, against the Red Devils' might.

With each kick and every cheer,

Ruwa feels the tension near.

As the match unfolds, emotions rise,

A rollercoaster of hope and sighs.

When victory slips away like sand,

And West Ham triumphs, a bitter demand,

Ruwa feels a sting, a poignant pain,

Yet, from this ache, something begins to gain.

For in the sorrow of defeat's cruel jest,

A transformation, an unwelcome guest.

It hurts, it burns, this bitter taste,

Yet, Ruwa finds strength in the aftertaste.

As the wounds heal and scars remain,

He learns resilience, not in vain.

For defeats may alter, but not define,

The spirit within, a resilient sign.

In the ebb and flow of football's dance,

Ruwa discovers, in loss, a chance.

To rise again, with newfound might,

For the Red Devils, in darkness, find their light.