The Boxer

Brain and braun and a mean streak
a mile long, with hands and a stronger head.
He could have been anything,
but he chose to be a pugilist instead.

A mighty upper-cut has he,
and a jab to keep his foe at bay.
In a way, a choreographer in this
ringed dance. Fighting for his life.

One more concussion and
all discussion of his future will include
warnings of permanancy. It is he
who chooses his fate;

who is to say if it’s not too late?
And the longer that he waits,
the gong will eventually ring his finality.
The banal refusal to concede with words

unheeded, will kill him. Boxing is all he knows;
it is all that thrills him. Life’s battered heavyweight.

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