The Fighter Poem
See yonder in the clearing
There among the cheering throng
Standing there surrounded by admirers
Yet still all alone
There's the fighter, aye the warrior
Who remembers every blow
As the paparazzi flash around
The fighter wants to go home
From the humblest of beginnings
Born among the dust and dirt
Clothed in scarlet, meant for purple
With the clods stuck to the bottom of her shoe
With no natural defenses
What could she do?
When everybody loves you
It's easy to seem like a star
When you radiate like a golden child
People forget that you weren't always that way
If they ever knew
The tales of high adventure
The things no one else would do
That still led back home where no one lived
The fighter wears them all like chains of platinum
Even those close to the fighter
Don't know what it's like
They've never tasted all the bile
Nor do they know the joy and ease and comfort
Or just what it means
The ones you choose betray
But they do it out of ignorance
They feel less than you though you feel less than them
The shadows called to the fighter
And to them she almost went
She almost wound up lost in darkness
When the dazzling light called to her
But she was scared and helpless
And the ones she loved said “no”
And she buried the proof
Down deep where no one could see
But those who pretended not to know
Finally thank the fighter for doing what
Was easy
Easy for them
The bed has claimed it's victim
Now the fighter hangs on
For one last round
Though she's ready to leave the arena
There are only three young reasons
That have kept her hanging on
She's earned her rest she want to go
But life is not that simple
The one who's in her corner
Hangs his head again to cry
And tries not to let her see it
She apologizes again
For what's not her fault
And though oh so many love the fighter
Now the paparazzi have all gone
The bag is hanging dripping wet
And there's no comfortable place to rest her head
Now her hand shakes
Her body's racked with pain
And she sometimes forgets
Thinking that last week was yesterday
And she struggles like a baby
To do simple things and needs the help that's offered
And cries sometimes in agony
For the moments when nobody is there
We all remember the fighter
But the fighter has now gone
The one who is left in her place
Moans in her sleep
Sleep
You deserve it
Oh please come back!
That is what the man cries though sometimes
She'd rather rest
But she keeps fighting on.
copyright (C) 2012 christopher w neal all rights reserved
