Not born with magic, nor a gift divine,
But forged in fire, with sweat and grind.
A relentless spirit, a will to defy,
Cristiano Ronaldo, reaching for the sky.
From Madeira’s shores, a scrawny frame,
He chased his dreams, fueled by an inner flame.
Days bled to nights, on تمرین’s ground,
Perfection his target, no room to be found
For doubt or despair, his heart would not yield,
Each missed shot a lesson, on the battlefield.
His body, a temple, sculpted with care,
Pushing the limits, defying the air.
Critics might scoff, and doubters deride,
But Ronaldo rose, with unwavering stride.
Goals rained like thunder, records he shattered,
His hunger for glory, forever unfettered.
Not just a scorer, a leader he grew,
Inspiring teammates, his passion anew.
He barked and he cajoled, a firebrand’s might,
Demanding the best, in every single fight.
But beneath the armor, a human resides,
A father, a son, with love that confides.
He weeps with his losses, celebrates high,
For in his emotions, his truth does lie.
So judge him not harshly, for his demanding ways,
For Ronaldo’s journey, is paved in his gaze.
A relentless spirit, a champion’s roar,
He may not be magic, but he’ll leave you wanting more.