In nineteen hundred and eighty one,
A Bulgarian woman gave birth to a son.
Her husband beheld the new family star,
Then kissed him and said "I name you Dimitar."
It didn't take long for this kid to enjoy,
the delights of a football,his favourite toy.
Picture the sight of a young Berbatov,
kicking a ball 'til his nappy fell off.
He got strong and fit,his technique refined,
Dimitar had just one thing on his mind.
He stood in the sunlight,holding the ball,
with visions of being the best striker of all.
As he grew up,his talent unfolded,
He signed for Sofia,his future was moulded.
Six years in Germany,his gift was plain,
signed up for the Spurs and said "Aufwiedersehen."
Lisa from Essex could only stare,
at this cool snappy dresser,with slicked back brown hair.
Shaking,she tried to stay calm,but instead
her spectacles wobbled and fell off her head.
He's her star player in every game,
her love is reflected in her member name.
She's his number one fan,she's first in the queue,
here's to you Berba's Girl,I dedicate this to you!!!
Frontwheelneil
The Peoples Poet
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