Tough to walk away from a fight.
My pride is to strong and I have one hell of a right.
My glare is mean and step is live.
My pulse is slow and mind is wise.
I have knock down quite a few in my day, so i'm afraid I fear not.
No tingle in my spine or sweat blocking my site, for I am the one who is giving the fright.
A swing and a miss, my stealth is like the blind during the night.
My pounce back is accurate enough to shake one from his sight.
So when the next contender in my life tried to test my waters,
I stepped up quick like court was in order.
He tried to say I was no match for his kind.
That made me growl I'm gonna whip your behind.
I clinched my fist and aimed for his skull.
The next thing I heard was a ringing of a bell.
I awoke with a headache, as the spectators hovered around.
Two of them gently pulled me off of the ground.
What happened I spoke, was I hit by a car.
No Old Man You Was Just Whupped In A Bar.
I look in the Mirror Behind The Bartender.
My Eye was Black and Hair Was Gray.
I guess my time is over.
Someone pass me my cane.
Christopher Singleton copyright 2013
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