Boxing Poems - Poems about Boxing

two titans clashed, exchanged trash talk; what splash they made!...Read More

Put up shut up or knuckle under Step up now and feel my thunder You may think that I'm quite the clown That all ends when I knock you down They all call me the Master Blaster Iron fists of...Read More

Hydrochloric acid fell on my hands and my eye The sharp moon and the terror of the dim sky It cuts me off with a spun of petals and a sigh The ink of the pen on my...Read More

I want to fly To the high hill of a mile Where even the sun can't find me, The moon can't hide in Somewhere very close to the sky...Read More

Tombstones And Cemetery Await Us All, Be Brave Howl of the blowing winds waywarder than others In the darkened cave where evil desires wait Caste us into stiff clans with warriors and brothers Those of evil wrath, villainy and...Read More

they don't want dramatic parents anymore sentimental they got bored of them they are sick of exaltation they don't want the vehemence of which the parents hung on convinced that it would be freedom we those with a muzzle swollen by history we look...Read More

Forever enough, always enough His love is more than enough He puts a bloodline between our foes And coaches us in His righteous moves Our fibers and genes will remember His power, mercy so tender Revolutionary shift is His promise Of unquenchable...Read More

Twelve rounds of excitement Two rivals smiling in the middle of enchantment The bell rang... Both fighters were wild Two rough hands still mild The bell rang again -- end of first round. Second round... Gaiting horses, eluding kicks and punches Baiting bodies,...Read More

The arena fully packed, All the ring girls looking sweet. The fighters in their corners, And the crowd was on their feet. The ref looked like a Zebra, Standing in the center ring. He called the two to join him, For the...Read More

There once was a man, strong and tall With a heart that would never fall He walked with a purpose, head held high And always looked straight into the sky He worked hard every single day To provide for his...Read More

The boxes By Michelle Morris 27/03/2023 The boxes Are all that is left Of us Our lives Our love It's incredible how We come together As people As couples As families With boxes Of things Of accumulated stuff Of memories Of love And when we Leave As we inevitably must Whether through death Or betrayal...Read More

The Sacred Meow Society On next night of demise of my spouse a mild knock at entrance alarmed me...Read More

The Holy Bible is a Journal. On the desk, and it's definitely not made of Mahogany, it's lightly-stained Oak. The blanket is Navaho. It's All Sacred. Those Impeccable Tribes of...Read More

we’re in France fantasy France good ball I like France hand wobble your the champ I’m your Caddy good ball It’s DuChamp Cause we’re in France Call me Caddy DuChamp….....Read More

"Whirlwind", they call him. He fights his way up in the ring. He knows he need it to survive. He must make his will alive. For every blood and tear he sheds. For every drop of sweat he...Read More