Pugilist

Mister man,

I saw the  patches beneath her eyes,

Again.

Her tale of blissful misery.

Her woeful wails feeds your damnation

 

Day and night makes no difference

Blue black her is her lone colour,

She sees nothing again

Only the stars from your mighty fists.

 

You are Lord, King and own this aging serf

Whose pores have been filled with bruises.

The hairs torn out by the wrapped cloth from Paris.

 

Is this the reward for the ring?

Is this the expression of manhood?

 

It is shame.

 

Prowess has deluded you.

Strength has failed you.

 

Weakness has drown the blood to your fists

But she is no Mayweather

Just the flower you were chosen to nurture.

 

The days of yore cast a rueful look

The elixir lost its grip on you

Now what beast stands before the faded beauty

To thrust into her battered soul.

 

Mister man,

Here she sneaks to the old Pharm for pills

Again.

How long will she continue with the dark googles

Hiding the terror of the bouts?



3 thoughts on “Pugilist” by gozereth (@gozereth)

  1. Very touching I must confess.Hope we can continue to speak against this this crime.A woman deserves to be protected by her husband or partner no matter what.Great work@Gozereth.

  2. Nice…wish it was a more gruesome picture to express the seriousness of this piece…

  3. Nice.
    If only those men would realize that women ain’t their punching bag or their comrade in a boxing ring.

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