Don’t Fight Me-not A Bruised Lee

Don’t Fight Me-not A Bruised Lee

They call me Lee
Please don’t fight me
Am not a bruised Lee, fighting for his right
My right fights for me, aided by my left at altered height.

Hey! Please wait
Look at me, I lift no weight,
Harbours no hate the devil could table the feast
Preceding your ” humble-party”, hosted by my fist

I’m not mean,
Though I’m lean
Please, don’t fight me, at most, with anger
It portends danger

You might bleed my clenched lips
Break my restless ribs
Presently fixtures on your body
The converse is your fixtures on me buddy!

I would strip your debonair
If you dare come near
Meekness is not weakness
Try it, and be my witness

We ought to fight
But not someone, but us, which is right
Fight your fallibility
And see, if you have, to fight me, any dexterity

Utopia is brim over with bliss on the rise
Because a law was given by Solon-the wise
That you fight first thyself without wanting
Funny you never finish “One”, to start “Two fighting”.

2 thoughts on “Don’t Fight Me-not A Bruised Lee” by Whyte Datonye (@whyte)

  1. I like the rhymes… nice!

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