This Poem was Submitted By: JAMES H SCARBROUGH On Date: 2001-03-10 09:31:39 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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CHAMP RETIRES

My left jab caught nothing but air, Like my once dependable right-hook. For many years I've defended my title, But wonder how many more I can book. My worthy contenders are younger now, Much stronger they all seem to grow. Quick reflexes and killer instincts aging, I'm feeling older and starting to slow. My sleepy eyes saw the new vision in, Round twelve of a dream-fight last night. Landing square, my opponent's uppercut, Caught my chin in another prize-fight. Never saw where in the world it came from. Never felt it or saw it reach-out in flight. But I heard the loud 'gong' of the bell, As it delivered a blast of flashing-red light. Numb, on the cold canvas in darkness, I heard all my fans and my family scream. I awoke in my bed realizing, this morning, It was another reoccurring bad dream. But I have fought from the mountain-tops, Climbing from the rings of the valley below. Today, an old prizefighting champ retires. I leave young boxers to dance toe to toe.

Copyright © March 2001 JAMES H SCARBROUGH


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