the noble sport

The bruised and battered hulk that earlier had been
A fit and able fighter physiqued up and combat keen
After blows to the solar plexus his arms fell to his side
A merciless rain of blows to the head
And his plight was hard to hide
To his foe he offered no defence
Who felled him like an oxe
He must have wondered at the time
Why he ever learned to box
As he hit the canvas his strength just ebbed away
His pride told him to beat the count
But his body said no way
And as they made their way through the blood thirsty crowd
To carry him off from the scene
Just another punch drunk ex champion
Yet another poor has been.