The Boxing Ring

We were locked in combat,

there could only be one winner.

The ropes of the ring,

close in.

My opponent steadily watches me.

His face, taut and glistening

with sweat.

My red boxing glove silently throws

an uppercut.

My red boxing glove is caked with perspiration.

My opponent lashes out,

and catches me on the jaw.

I am stunned.

Is this the end?

No.

I get up, and my opponent

knocks me back down.

I am determined to win.

I quickly jump up,

much to my opponent's surprise.

I furiously jab his ribs with

all my strength.

I hear an audible crack.

He goes down,

spits blood,

and dies on the floor.

His rib punctured his lung.

I've won this fight, unfortunately,

at the cost of a life.

This is my experience,

With cancer.

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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