Cinderella Man

Cinderella man…

As he sits on the stool staring
through eyes cut and bruised
He hears the crowd swearing
feels his body over used.

The bell, he dances on feet so light,
now he knew why he had to fight.
This was not for belts or to sample glory,
his was such a hard, sad, simple story.

He’d never erase that hungry picture,
his children trying to hide their fear.
However hard he’d tried to reassure,
they worried, would he always stay near.

Squaring the ring without feeling his age,
trying hard to change his miserable lifestyle.
He at last understood and controlled the rage,
at last he would fight, the fight worthwhile.

What of this kind man, not quite in his prime,
body aching but inside feeling great elation.
Punching through misery thrown up by time,
misery that was wholly of rich man’s creation.

He’d stood toe to toe with a great depression,
broken hands, defeat and even hunger.
This did not deter his love for this profession,
even though he wasn’t getting any younger.

Because he had great strength of mind,
a will as strong as the strongest iron.
He also had three beautiful hungry children,
a wife who cared that they remain, as one…

As battle commences it lightens his mood,
win or lose his family would have some food…