Seconds please, round twelve


“So in to the final round in this middleweight battle, Alan Penrose fighting out of Bethnal Green is in the red and blue sequined shorts and white boots, Life fighting out of Eternity in the solid black trunks and black boots, is three short minuets from a T.K.O and an unblemished record……………………………”


Was to be heard over Sky’s interstellar link……………………………………..


Bludgeoned, bloodied and bruised,
I step in to what we all know to be my final round, To see my end is a distant hope,
Cut by Life beyond any recognisable signs,
No humanity held behind these blackened eyes, Been knocked on my arse so often,
Adverts adorn the soles of these boots,
Punch drunk I live this indecisive life, Stumbling upon my own shortcomings, Whiplashed by my existences haymakers and hooks, Blinded by his daily jabs,
This miss-match made in hell,
Those rounds I threw in the towel,
And run the razors edge,
Corner men cackled,
As they applied cortisone,
To my furrowed wounds, I cough and spit on my very own blood,
To their oblivion,
And lost in their tangled grappling’s,
Just patching me up for another round,
A lamb is I,
Tossed to my definite slaughter, Outreached,
Outweighed,
And out classed,
My life so short,
Flashed by me in a blinking of an eye,
No worthy second committed to this fleeting memory, To you a song I have, myself, to write,
But the twelfth is beyond my desperate grasp,
In this final clinch am forever lost, Succumbed once more,
On to Life’s uppercut,
But, as we all knew,
Life is a fight I was never meant to win.

mixed wood bowl, for more see Bespoke Woods Facebook page.

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