By Fisherman

My Big Fight

I can not remember why we fought
No major grudge to it I brought;
A sanctioned fight â€" no fear of being caught
As a trouble maker with a history of evil wrought.

Yet there we were, a difference to decide
With fists and cuffs each other to deride;
Our postures strong with pride we did not hide
Yet camouflaging the anxiety we felt inside.

Is this my friend who I am about to punch?
Yet my anger called to treat him as my lunch
For had he not been caustic as a grunch?
Angry thoughts I had for him by the bunch.

Squared off were we in the grade school gym
I desired to make a punching bag of him
The early rounds made my hopes seem slim
As he pounded me with fists flying and countenance grim.

Yet with one swift upper cut
I scored my best hit to his gut
A punch which felled him on his butt
My heart pounding like a deer in rut.

And so he declared our fight a draw
Yet those who watched acknowledged what I saw
As vengeance duly paid for by the law
Of fisticuffs to decide matters sour in one’s craw.

And so ends this tale of woe which as a child
Was so untypical of me so meek and mild;
Yet good this memory which I begiled
As boy to manhood I reconciled.

Submitted By zeeshan

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