an empty boxing ring


eyes sharp and fists curled,
squinting in the light,
you laugh and dare the dirty world
to get back up and fight.

you’ll draw an aching breath
and refuse to shift your gaze,
dancing faster still with death,
losing count of hollow days.

wrap the bandages on your hands
so tightly that they sting,
shout your narrow-eyed commands
to an empty boxing ring.

wait for answers in the silence,
shout again with sharp-wound words
smile with dark-faced defiance,
lean back and watch as it all burns.

the smoke is bitter in your chest,
it twists between electric lights
ignore the sounds of wild unrest
as tears stream from your bloodshot eyes.


29 thoughts on “an empty boxing ring

  1. wow i’m so impressed with your use of rhyme! rhyming poetry is a little scarce today and although blank verse is beautiful, i really appreciate the effort and attention to the melody and rhythm of words that goes into rhyming poetry. you really nailed it! the person in this poem is a little piece of me in the back of my mind, always ready to take on whoever challenges the truth. needless to say, he’s often shoved back to his place with a bloody nose and bruised lips.
    <3 <3 <3
    power to the local dreamer ||-//

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, thank you. <3 Agreed, blank verse is beautiful, and far less restricting!
      That's… the best description ever. Your comments are always like little fragments of poetry, and I love them. :)

      Liked by 1 person

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