Poem -

Isaiah!

In the land of giants there is a little man,

A few inches shorter than an average man would stand.

Reaching up beside them, to some he gives up feet

Despite is disadvantage he always does compete.

They may have giant limbs, he has a giant heart.

His blood is pure grit, he can tear them apart.

He doesn’t have their power, they don’t have his chill

Each day he does devour, giants with his skill.

As time passes by, he only does improve

The giants slowly tire, while he quickly finds his groove

In those final moments when you need the Midas touch

There’s no one out there with him, who’s anywhere near as clutch

Coming down the stretch, he out performs them all

The little man that’s filled with passion and with gall

In those defining moments, there is no better player

If I could build a team, my first pick is Isaiah!

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