For Rocky Poem by david lessard

He never floated like a butterfly-
Nor did he sting like a bee;
He was a fighter, not a boxer -
and he made history.

Forty-nine bouts he won (he never lost) ,
Each fight became a war -
Forty-four knockouts he posted,
as all them hit the floor.

He wasn't tall, he wasn't big -
he was of average height and stocky;
His last was unpronouncable,
and so they called him, Rocky.

Long before Mike Tyson,
and before a man named Clay -
he was the heavyweight champion,
no one stood in his way.

Not stylish, graceful or clever -
but he had thunder in his hand,
and the will to win was evident,
throughout the boxing land.

So here's to my boyhood idol -
Marciano was the name;
In the world that's known as boxing,
He was at the top of the game.