The Fighter Poem by Harsh Bhardwaj

This man
Whom I see in the mirror
Half drenched in the shower
With a deep
Red wound,
From last night's fight,
Beneath his eyes
And nose;
This man
Who
Is rubbing against
The curdy,
Coagulated blood
Between his fingers,
Which flowed,
Untill last night,
In another man's vein;
With swollen veins,
And the rushing
Adrenaline through 'em,
This man, in the mirror,
In his heavy muscles-
You can't see him weep
As I do!

This man,
Who counts
How many necks he had broken,
Hates his scarred fist,
The very next day of his fights
And
Asks himself
"Am I a killer
Or
a fighter? "
And then,
I feel him weep.