6 rounds

by Jack Nightengale   Feb 23, 2020

Round One:
Gloves up and the lights on,
Quiet arena cause the crowds gone.
This is the fight that no one wants to see,
But, it's the fight that's within everyone, not just me.
Pain in the red corner while I'm in the blue,
Fighting against the pain of the memories of you.

Round Two:
Supposed to be a clean fight but fear hits low,
I'm blocking and can feel each blow.
I try to dodge but keep getting tagged,
Fear keeps stepping forward and I'm getting jabbed.

Round Three:
Defense is solid and I can't break the guard,
Fighting against doubt is going to be hard.
For every punch I throw, I get hit with a combination,
Breaking down my guard with devastation.

Round Four:
I'm gasping, I'm hurting and the punches come faster,
My legs are heavy and fatigue has set in and my punch have grown softer.
I clinch to catch my breath, but the body blows knock me down.
The count gets to eight before I rise from the ground.

Round Five:
My guards wide open, my stamina is gone,
Heartbreak throws a hook and my mind is blown.
Leaning against the ropes hoping to endure,
The bell finally rings, a small bandage with no cure.

Round Six:
I can barely stand, I can barely even see straight,
Fighting myself, the fights almost over and I can't wait.
A right hook knocks me out and I'm the loser of this bout,
I'm left lying on the ground, no one remains and the light's are out.
Alone in the dark a loser to myself, cameras still linger above,
To protect myself and to protect others, sometimes you have to be a monster to the ones you love.

Six rounds and I couldn't land a single hit,
Hang my gloves on the ropes and quietly disappear,
Throw my gym bag in the trash cause I quit.
There ain't no place in the ring for the loser.. not here.


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Latest Comments

  • 7 months ago

    by Jump from Life

    I really really enjoyed this poem. I loved the emotions and imagery behind it. Good work, mind you all of your poems are good.

  • 8 months ago

    by Obscure

    Fear, doubt, heartbreak, all these things are such hard things to battle against, but what's even worse is when these things come from within. It's much easier to guard against doubts that other people bring up, but our mind knows us well enough to hit us where it hurts. Great poem!

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