Fists that Heal

A Poem
By
Osere Nyamora Vincent

Fists that Heal
Left          hook, Right hook, upper cuts slices they make!! My face buttered but          the healing leaves behind a trail of knowledge; 12th round it is,          yet no knock out in the offing, the canvas waiting for a thud but          still grounded I'm, the crowd a million more ticketing in the          dying minutes of a match between heavyweights yet patience,          endurance, hard work are all but rules of the match. The fists peel          away the mask of hope that is left as the crowd cheer at the sign of          a stagger, yet I refuse to give up. Many came before me and many are          to after, yet they never gave up! they embraced the fists from          life's punishing experiences and on the bell victorious they were          declared. Today I embrace life's fists of experience, hard as they          come left and right's killer combinations, with serious dents a          sign of the game's intense heat; I still hold guard and take the          lessons from life's fists that heal.