Ghost of Christmas 1

Am beautifully hurt Though, gracefully taught You still think am weak While hesitatingly given a week To plunge in his favourite hands That combusted my convex bone cheeks Perhaps, i smelt that act of cabalism At same time, was left in surrealism Its a welter weight, he looks sixpounds more Once again, our laws are seeming lore Likewise,standing here is a bigger lie the last i uttered was 'fie'(upon you) Rushing out of the square paced ring Avoiding his mazed defeat and a lone beating Accusing the men in suit of self complacency While i was accorded victory.