What's In A Title
Floyd Mayweather Jr. and his trainer father Floyd Sr. used for visual effect,
otherwise, not related to this poem.
Through his blood filled, half closed eyes
The old fighter lowers his mitts to his side
He sees the proverbial writing on the walls
It's now time for his long reign to subside
But it's all he's known since he was young
How will he deal with all on the outside
Outside his world of alum and ammonia
Boxing was the only way he knew to survive
A champion he'd been to the many hundreds
The hundreds who clamored into the arenas
As he'd strut out wearing his buckle of gold
He always prayed, God Almighty, hallelujah
His strength had always been his strongest ally
Coming up from the poorest of the poor
He fought his way out of the horrid ghettos
Always striving to give his family more
And now his claim to fame is all but gone
All his titles won won't do him any good
He walks away with his head hung in shame
Not standing tall, head held high, as he should
On the street, a young man stops him short
He says , 'Hey mister, aren't you so and so?'
The man replied, 'Yes son, I'm afraid I am'
And he said 'I want to be a boxer too, you know!'
He persisted and the ex-champ finally agreed
His expertise and guidance were what he needed
A quick study he flew right through the ranks
His hunger and thirst for fame was deep-seated
T'was a championship bout they had trained for
Against one of the toughest competitors around
The old champion and his protege, the young fighter
Sat in their corner waiting for the bell to sound
Over in the batting of an eye, a one-two-three punch
Took the other fighter down hard in the first round
As the crowd was screaming at the top of their lungs
The man was pleased with the redemption he'd found
Written for the Free Verse Challenge
Phrase 'half closed eyes'
Host: Alwaysmywords (Pete)
© 2010 Adele Kaye
(All rights reserved)
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