Ronnie O’Sullivan. A Snooker God.
He plays the table and leaves you awed
With furrowed brow, he prowls toward the green,
He paces, seeing shots that have not been.
And then with care, he starts to play his game.
Each shot perfectly played he earns his name:
The Rocket. Watching him I’m in heaven
As he plays another one-four-seven.
Watch him close. One-by-one he sinks the reds,
After each, the black follows close behind.
Without the clutter, the rest are now free
Yellow, Green, Brown, Blue, Pink then Black once more.
There is no denying, no illusion
A God of the game. Only Conclusion.