A poem to Elisa Bella because she's Bela

01

A short poem to Elisa Bella 
There was a football match...
You were telling me something about a patch...
I know that something was going on there because inside an act there's a fact... 
You were telling me this: 
- Hey Man, be kind...
- CR7 is a machine and he scores goals with his mind... 
I was shouting to some crowd... 
I know that I wasn't understanding any of your words because the sound was real loud... There was no Tiki Taka then... 
Football was actually played by men... 
Your long black hair was like raven wings where some people visioned dreams... 
There was a goal... 
There was no foul...
- The referee was paid... 
- He was mad... 
 You said.
 I remember that I was a bit sad... 
You were shouting this to me:
- WHAT'S GOING ON, MAN?
- JUST GRAB YOUR DAMN PEN... 
I was cooking pasta with meat for us when suddenly I saw your moving feet... 
You were asking me this:
- Hey Man, let's play football on that wall?
 I didn't knew what to say to you because my left foot was asleep because of our previous meet... 
You told me this:
- Hey Man, everything looks fine, but can you please tell me where's the wine? 
 I looked at the TV Set and told you that it was without internet....
You were a bit sad...
But I was happy that you weren't mad... 
Your eyes were dark at the amusement park... I thought this to myself:
- She's a vampire...
- She's going to cut my throat with wire...
- She's going to drink my blood if she sees a flood... 
 Of course that you weren't a vampire at all and I've bought you an apple leaving it at your house hall... 
 You told me this inside a kiss:
- Hey Man, you're so sweet...
- Will we tomorrow play trick or treat?
- I promise that I bring you bread and that I don't cry in your bed...