Mo

He sways majestically from side to side.
Ball clutched tightly, in his arm held wide.

Light as a bubble carried on the wind.
Dodging and diving  as the game begins.

Flying and floating toward the try line,
He once again owns the glory and shine.

Brave, black and beautifully,
Frivolous, young and carefree.

A bright smile lights up sky. You tend to smile back,
Though you don’t know why.  

Mo, they call him
He’s from a land afar.
He’s made his home here
Where he shines like a star

A son, a brother, a student, a friend
Mohammed begins, where beauty ends.