David Lessard


King James


He's going back to Cleveland,
to set the nets on fire;
he's tired of the Heat,
he's lost all the desire.

In good old North Ohio,
he'll be welcomed by the crowd;
they fall all over themselves,
and call his name out loud.

He's returning to the city,
where he's never won a ring;
causing wild emotions,
as people jump and sing.

He's the greatest in the world,
at what he does...he's best;
he's passed with flying colors,
nearly each and every test.

If you are called a Buckeye,
then you've nothing more to fear;
cause LeBron James is going to be,
a Cleveland Cavalier.

Submitted: Friday, July 11, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (King James by David Lessard )

Enter the verification code :

  • Mandolyn ... (7/11/2014 9:52:00 PM)

    i would say he's the best in that third strophe.
    it reads smoother.
    and lol @ this fun little nugget (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. The Maddening Dance, Tony Adah
  2. Alternative Prayer, Phil Soar
  3. I appear, gajanan mishra
  4. Young Wife's Longing, Paul Sebastian
  5. Ants Crawling, Naveed Akram
  6. applying online, lee fones
  7. Stay not away, gajanan mishra
  8. Ah! Little Woodlouse - Are You Unreal?, Brian P FitzGerald
  9. You Will Always Learn, Naveed Akram
  10. What can I do, gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]