Poem -
The Boxer
How many sharp jabs
Rocks of right hands
Can I stand and face ?
How many walks back to the corner ?
How many more times until its over
As a boxer gets older
The younger circle like vultures as his career fades .
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Comments
Well said , some aren't willing to accept the truth and remain past due, retiring to late. Those vultures are hungry!
Nice write Chris 🌷🌷
well written Linda