<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420201" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Boxer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">His pressure was mounting<br>along with his weight.<br>He got into training<br>a little bit late.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the grey light of morning<br>He'd be seen on the street.<br>sweating it out<br>on sneaker clad feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He sparred with his partners.<br>with few in the stands.<br>Then pummel the light bag<br>with lightening fast hands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The fight date was approaching<br>and no one in the State<br>gave him much of a chance<br>of escaping his fate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The champ was unbeaten.<br>He ground his foes down.<br>They'd be down, looking up<br>at the Champ looking down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How then to cope<br>with an unbeatable foe? <br>This cup would not pass<br>even if he wished it so.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was not getting younger, <br>This was his last shot.<br>Would he be one more challenger<br>that history forgot? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was no timid soul, <br>avoiding the chance.<br>He'd go down swinging.<br>No regrets, he would dance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He stepped into the ring<br>and they stood toe to toe<br>They touched gloved hands together<br>When the bell rings, you go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+F.+McCullagh">John F. McCullagh</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420201" data-title="The Boxer de John F. McCullagh" data-description="His pressure was mounting along with his weight. He got into training a little bit late. In the grey light of morning He'd be seen on the street. sweating it out on sneaker clad feet. He sparred with his partners. with few in the stands. Then pu..."></div> </div> </div>

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