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mk Jun 2015
your hands are calloused
your knuckles raw
your mouth is ******
your opponent on the floor

your heart is broken
your mind is numb
you’ve given up on hope
you don’t know what you’ve become

your victories stem from pain
your power from dismay
your glory from rage
you always knew it’d end up this way

one more fight
one more scar
one more win
to remind you who you are

every now and then
in the middle of a fight
her laugh echoes in your head
it reminds you of the light

the light you once had in your soul
the light which he stole
the light which kept you sane
the light which kept you whole

the thought of her
makes you push harder and faster
memories of her touch
remind you of your happily never after

the last time you saw her
the last time you tasted those lips
you always knew it’d come to an end
but just not like this

so you go in for that extra punch
you train that extra night
you cross the limits one more time
you win every last fight

victory after victory
you’re going through the motions
only you and her know
that you’re devoid of emotion

for a hero you’re called
and a champion as well
the truth is, however,
that you’re just a bitter man going through hell
// in hopes that it never ends this way between us //
She does not own a fighter's body

But you can tell right from the start

That the thing they have in common

Is...she has a fighter's heart

For as long as I have known  her

A scrapper she has been

A lioness well challenged

She is cunning, though not mean

Her battle is internal

Her trophy is her life

Her body's full of cancer

She's tap dancing on a knife

She won't back down from any fight

Not this one...that's for sure

She determined like a fighter

She wants this fight...and one more

It's a battle for survival

She's as tough as old Ali

Her battle cry is awesome

"You will not be taking me"

I write this for my mother

The toughest woman that I know

And regardless of her cancer

Her pain...she'll never show.
Steele Mar 2015
The Boxer stands alone tonight.
There are no crowds to cheer him on.
There are no opportunities to pass him by.

The Boxer stands alone tonight.
His head is bowed, no longer strong.
His heart no longer knows what's right.

The Boxer stands alone tonight.
He can't remember for how long.
He can't remember what it felt like

to live
       carry on
                  to be strong
                                    to fight.

The Boxer stands alone tonight.
There is no one here to hear him cry,
alone in the ring, as baroque music flies
through the air; through his soul,
and at last lets him sleep.

There is not a soul left there that cares to cheer him on;
When he passes, there is no one left that deigns to weep.
When life gets tough, sometimes the tough get going only to subsequently break down like the flawed human beings they are.

— The End —