The Boxer

You have the luxury of walking away, without goodbye...I do not. They will not dance to your music...nor mine. They will not bow or scrape or writhe, to your pipe, or rise to your command. They will not acknowledge, but disdain...the very mention of your name. They will not admit a thing...for they are, one...legion, and yet...there is one reason...I remain. I love them. They would, I were, far gone. They would, entirely pound my ass into the dirt...for, by my presence, only, I convict them. So, I come back, like a boxer in the ring, spitting on the mat, the blood of their contempt, on my tongue, and I fight...as no one ever fought, with just a mind...and love, from round to round, and I will win, and not give up...until the bell, says I can fall...to sleep again.


Written By Bruce James Clyde 2016,  Deming, New Mexico

Photo Credit: lonestarboxerrescue.com