AFC Wimbledon

In Plough Lane’s hushed twilight, the Dons arise,
A phoenix reborn from Wimbledon’s past,
Their claret and blue a steadfast disguise,
Against the giants, their hopes steadfast.

From Kingston’s roar to the Merton terraces,
Chants echo like rain on a summer’s day,
Each tackle a verse, each goal a stanza’s crescendo,
In the theatre of dreams where loyalties sway.

The faithful, a chorus of grit and grace,
Sing “We’re the Dons, we’ll never yield,”
Their hearts beat in rhythm with every pass,
A tale of pride that the fields have sealed.

So here’s to the club that defies the odds,
AFC Wimbledon – where spirit endures.