They look at the old boxer now, a withered and scared form.
They say they understand because they know he used to fight.
They say they understand the slanting nose and the creak of his previously dancing toes.
They look at the boxer, and they understand he used to fight.
But in his tired eyes there is never rest,
For although his body is past it's best,
From being asked to fight to young his brain is in a mess.
He fights now for his dignity and tried to hide,
his confusion of humanity's seas and tides
One day like his body his mind to will rest
Holding to account those who put him in the ring before his first christening was blessed.
But until that time look at him and say you understand he used to fight,
And then allow him extra time to feel the blessing of life.
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