The Boxer Poem by Barry Pook

As I fester in my own prison,
He is there for me, he loves me, my dad,
There right in my corner with fresh water,
Round for round, pound for pound.

After the first he gave me control,
My trainer urging me to cleanse myself,
In the 90's I won that fight, soothed into spring water,
Him 'the mafia' on my side with love.

Once again he's in my corner,
Tending to my mental wounds with words of strength,
Strategies are given, followed to the letter,
Wiped into me with his towel of compassion.

I know not what the next round brings,
Seclusion, threats, violence or disinterest and esteem loss,
But he's with me till the end, my father, my friend,
Ready to drive me away from here, the ring of hell.