Love Fight – SHORT STORY

getty images boxing

enthrals crowds with his persona and adorns crowns
Pride? he couldn’t be more proud, the ring is his war ground
only happy once, the other man’s tasted leather and the floors found
treatin’ opponents to gene therapy, leavin’ em’ worn down
before they’re bein’ seen medically.

His fists hit so hard, past generations can feel the punches
has them hospitalised, seein’ spots in their eyes on liquid lunches
From all the running, weight training, sit ups n’ crunches
He’s the needle, the addiction, the dealer of blows and inflictions
and arms like a rage with pistons, only viewed safe from a distance
has all challengers abusing their bodies from Fraziers to Listons
have em starin’ at the spotlights slayed in an instant
Making money left, right and….. upper cut, it pays to be consistent.

The feet paint the canvas, which brushes with greatness
dab paint on his soles, watch the egos he crushes to create this,
great rift in skill and power, that sees a grown man’s will devoured
fists like a fortress with built in towers,
Yeah he reigns supreme, from the bloody hits that spill in showers
the highlights don’t make the news, there’s so many they fill the hours
the gloves even blur on the replays, the pain is everlasting the picture it relays
shows how tough guys go from havin’ weak moments to weak days
Floats like a butterfly, and he’s the one in the stomach of opponents
years after they faced him, the flashbacks still come in their moments,
of quiet thought and dreams, unforgiving memories offering no condolence.


Walking home drunk and rowdy, its a hiding, then, “I love you, my judgements cloudy”
wakes up to see his wife beaten profoundly, there’s no beating of chest, smug n’ proudly.
The drink makes him think he’s one of the greats,
but in reality he struggles to keep funds in place to buy food n’ have some on their plates.
Boxing was meant to be his hunger and face, t’isn’t victory but shame, that his tongue can taste
‘cos amateur boxing doesn’t exactly have the crowds flocking,
the silver in the clouds is out of touch and now so are his offspring
The pain in the chest that a cough brings is nothing compared to takin’ off his ring
given by the woman he loved and now he’s alone
because his gloves never came off when he got home.


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