Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson 1850-1894

My Shadow
My Shadow
By Robert Louis Stevenson 1850–1894

I have a little shadow thats in the same league as me,
And what is the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me, apart form his massive debt,
And I see him kneel before me, when Giroud finds the net.


The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper football clubs, but very very slow;
Sometimes he shoots up taller like when Bale runs with the ball,
But mostly he's so tiny that there's none of him at all.


He hasn't got a notion of how he ought to play,
And always makes a fool of himself in every sort of way.
He try's to stay so close to me, but he's a coward you can see;
And he has to go to nursie as he fails to stick to me!


One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew(sp) on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.