Ohio State Football

Oh, Ohio State, the mighty have tumbled,
Your once-proud roar has now grown humbled.
In Columbus streets, the echoes fade,
For Michigan’s shadow, your field has laid.

You boasted of Buckeyes, a dynasty tall,
Yet year after year, it’s a maize-and-blue thrall.
The winged helmets charge with fire and pride,
While your silver helmets hide, terrified.

The Horseshoe trembles, its magic now thin,
As Ann Arbor laughs at your fleeting spin.
From Harbaugh’s grin to a Michigan fight,
Your dreams dissolve in the cold November night.

Two years, three years—how long will it last?
The Wolverines feast on your championship past.
Once “The Game” was yours, a tale to unfold,
Now Michigan’s grip turns scarlet to cold.

So dwell in your sorrow, oh Buckeye domain,
For the victors have claimed their rightful reign.
The bell tolls loudly, the message is clear:
Michigan owns you—this isn’t your year.