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sandra wyllie
Poems
Jan 2020
Life is a Boxer
in the rink.
He wears no
padded gloves,
instead opts for
brass knuckles. To hit
and not be hit
you must have rhythm
and wit. You got to
dance inside the
ropes. You can’t rely solely
on hope. You’ll get your
share of punches, nose
bleeds and aching
muscles. There’s not
always a referee to
oversee, especially as an
adult. You’ve got to do it
yourself. And when you’re
down for the count you must
muster the strength to stand up.
Written by
sandra wyllie
56/F
(56/F)
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