Southpaw Contender

 

You have ducked, dodged and taken

    many hits.

Life has had you against the ropes 

    more times than I can count.

You just keep on swingin’.

    Boxing the wind,

Boxing the wind

I watch you jab, dance and punch at the wind.

    Age just isn’t the Southpaw fighter’s

friend.

Bobbin’ and weavin’.

    Caught cold a time or two,

        you just keep on going

the distance. Palooka you say, who? 

The years have moved on.

so much time has passed.

How many more blows

can you withstand? 

How much longer can

the matches last?       

You’re much slower now.

The fight’s in the twelfth round,

way beyond punch drunk,

Refusing to be knocked down.

Refusing to stay down.

The fight for now is over.

The match has reached its end.

Watching 

what could have been 

the world’s greatest 

left-handed contender, tirelessly 

boxing at the wind

A whole lifetime spent 

boxing the wind. 

                                         cjj ©

                     Poem Written By: Chyrel J. Jackson                          

                    https://amzn.to/2VMCLNU