Boxing, a brutal, bloody, painful sport.
This is my life.
I don't spend my life on a tennis court,
I'd rather be in a boxing ring than have that as my life.
Boxing is a game of skill,
to others it's a silly blood bath.
I just love going in for the kill,
then they lay there and I laugh.
Boxing is my crack
I can't stay away.
It always brings me back,
always ready to play.
The ring is my garden
It is my sanctuary.
It gives no one pardon,
In November, December, or January.
Blood, sweat, and tears
goes into the game.
No more fears,
no more shame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem