The Late Muhammad Ali

A whirlwind of a pugilist, With punches that could crush a cyst, In the admirers eyes summoning Mist, The Destroyed by him a long list, Many of them by their families missed… He got them down but still them kissed, Of a Life-and-Death business making a tryst, You’d tag it a party and your own waist twist. A whirlwind of a pugilist, With laughing legs but a crying fist, Timing his demolitions with the watch on your wrist. This treasuring and it never was ceased, Many faces lighting up as many getting creased, Of those who got its “He’s the Greatest!” gist. Sadly, he hadn’t his Parkinson sniffed, Angels hadn’t worried too to have us briefed, Only us radioed his domestic squabbles and rift, For his ring legacy, a displeasing gift… Towards an uncheery finale did he drift: My Gemini Twin and former spendthrift.