Posted: June 3, 2014 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,



As my love is tied
against the ropes,
the disease delivering
jarring jabs,
but no knockout blows,
I watch outside the ring
observing the slow
destruction of the body
for which I ache.
I want to embrace her,
but she is in the ring
with disease.
The referee, Death,
ignores the headbutting
and blows beneath the belt.
I want to jump into the ring,
to stand in for her,
take it on the chin.
But the best I can do
is wait in her corner
with a bucket of fear
for her to spit in
and a towel of love
to wipe away
the sweat
and tears
and blood.

By David Allen

Like my poetry? Then buy my book, “The Story So Far,” published by Writers Ink Press, Long Island, N.Y. You can find it on ( in paperback and Kindle formats, or by sending$10 to:

David Allen
803 Avalon Lane
Chesterfield, IN 46017

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