Underdog Poems - Poems about Underdog

The B Side Man

I was cut in the studio after the hit had dried its sleeve—
a shadow-track pressed in wax
buried under the melody that crowned them kings
I came with the needle's sigh,
not for applause,
but for the noise you never chose.

The A-side spun through summer air—
windows down, girls laughing loud
boys riding every chorus like a dare.
Me?
I cracked my voice

As an underdog given a short leash on life

As an underdog given a short leash on life

alternately titled give one targeted scapegoat a break,
an unquenchable thirst for moolah before I wake
from nightmare of computer hackers. 

I tread upon the oblate spheroid
along the edge of night glistening
like a blade runner wielding a knife.

Dark shadows hoover
from the outer limits of the twilight zone
illuminating one bisel

UnderDog

Underdog 

Have you ever been counted out 
Before you were counted in 
You felt like you took a lot of losses 
But in the end, the goal was to win 
You faced all kinds of obstacles and battles 
Shaken up like a rattle 
Like a horse with a saddle 
You ran til you could not

Great Tiny Apple

Great tiny apple 
Consequence of branches untrimmed 
Will anyone bother to learn 
That you are
Defiantly delicious?

The Underdog

Anybody, who is struggling,
Is my people
The one with the color purple,
Who will one day earn and own the ring.

I love fighters, who are not backstabbers,
I don't like haters or fake lovers,
I adore freedom fighters
As I abhor bullies and predators.

I love the underdog,
Who works smart, trains hard
And who fears neither fire nor fog.

That doesn't mean I

Underdog Alleluia

Underdog Alleluia

By Mark D. Stucky
Why do we love underdogs?
Why root for ragtag Rockies
and scruffy low-rated teams
coming from behind to win?
Why adore unlikely triumphs
against impossible odds?

Our culture can still remember
underdog-filled Bible stories,
from David and Goliath’s battle
to the meek inheriting the earth.

And America was once an underdog,
rebelling against earth’s mightiest empire.
Although Britain wielded superpower might,
and colonists fielded

Polly Purebred Saved By Underdog

Polly Purebred was a bit too stuck up for my taste.
But Underdog was always there, with a heave and a haste.
I remember being shocked when I saw him in color in 1964.
Picturing him in blues, not reds, now seeing him down to his core.

He flew across the screen at Polly’s first whistle.
His cape was smooth

The Underdog

Anybody, who is struggling,
Is my people
The one with the color purple,
Who will one day earn and own the ring.

I love fighters, who are not backstabbers,
I don’t like haters or fake-lovers,
I adore freedom fighters
As I abhor bullies and predators.

I love the underdog,
Who works smart, trains hard
And who fears neither fire nor fog.

That doesn’t mean I like

The Underdog

The Underdog

The underdog wasn’t expected to last this long
The status quo, the elite were sharing, 
Didn’t return as expected
World order in the balance, at tipping point
All those who were fed, are now struggling to eat
The world banked on democracies defeat.
Ukraine is still standing
Punch drunk but aware
The aggressor and expected victor being
Mutilated on the field and

I Haint No Recalcitrant Underdog Among Hoi Polloi

Just a garden variety generic wordsmith 
teasing out reasonable rhyme courtesy ploy;
self plagiarizing boot juiced barely abiding
by ruff dogma, with enigmatic joie
de vivre charisma, 
which oft times witnessed
gentle green giant gentile goy
essentially me being a decoy
occasionally rocketing, outsourcing, 
kickstarting, feigning
tubby an Anchorite, ahoy!

Life in the K9 corps
ain't so doggone ease zee
absolutely daunting, hence
lemme share with

The Underdog

Insecure bullies seek their prey
Prepared for attack
Finding a vulnerable target
To fulfil the worth that they lack

Their victims are not the weak
They are the kind, gentle or unsure
They don’t possess meanness 
That is the bullies irresistible lure

Victims are often described as the Underdog
I believe this term does not pertain
The only dog between a bully and their

Underdog

They laughed at us when we selected our books but we learnt how to read.
They poured scorn on the way in which we held our ink but we learnt how to write.

They got comfortable in the airs and privilege but we learnt how to persevere.
They scoffed at the way we talked and danced and sang

There Will Be Another Blessed Day

When you lose
Remember
There will be another blessed day
There will be another play
Another fuse
To burn, to stay alive
And to do high five.

Life has a ton of surprises
Remember
Forthcoming are more prizes
There will be a blissful day
There will be another play
Never give up, stay well
And alive; and wait for the bell.

Let the ball roll
May it be in the

The Underdog

Jab. Jab. Jab.
An underdog's blessed gloves enter battle.
Fighting for the reigning title.

Left. Right. Right. Left.
With a divined dance of the feet,
a silver throne to be his seat.

Upper cut. Liver shot.
Angels swirl around the ring,
an upset soon would be seen.

Mocking tongue. Eyes widen up.
Lightning in veins, thunder in punch,
a young warrior makes his opponent hunch.

Unleased bow...

The Underdog

cat 
looks to you for 
a steady feed
occasional scratch 
vague companionship
nothing more-nothing less...
you're not his friend, you're his pet
the times you're at your pinnacle 
is the time he's somewhat less... 
when your deep into your blueness 
is when he becomes quite oblivious. 
          
  

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