With boots that whisper and a heart that roars,
A king uncrowned, on emerald shores.
No crown of jewels, no throne of might,
Just skill sublime, and endless light.
La Pulga dances, a fleeting blur,
Defenders stumble, dreams left askew.
The ball, a captive, a willing slave,
Mesmerized steps, a waltz so brave.
Flickering ankles, defenders fall,
Goals like brushstrokes, painted on a wall.
From Rosario’s streets, a legend born,
Where dreams took flight, on a summer morn.
No thundering shouts, no victory cries,
Just quiet joy in his gentle eyes.
A leader silent, a maestro wise,
His symphony played, beneath clear skies.
More than trophies, more than golden rain,
He paints emotions, erases pain.
A legacy etched, in hearts that hold,
The magic of Messi, a story untold.
So raise a glass, to the king uncrowned,
The humble giant, whose feet touch the ground.
La Pulga’s magic, forever shall reign,
A legend whispered, in football’s refrain.