Bruised Soul
 
Gerry Cheevers is a legend in hockey;
A pioneer of the goalie mask,
He marked his shield with stitch lines
For every time he took a puck to the face

Mohammed Ali’s name
Is synonymous with boxing.
He took so many blows to the head
He could be a poster child for brain injury.

I’m just a nobody

Emotional blows don’t leave marks,
They’re meant to tear a soul into pieces
And leave it crumpled on the floor,
A mere shadow of its former self
With no outward signs
Of decay

There is no Hall of Fame
For those who have learned to wince
And keep walking;
Those who’ve decided
That a knock down
Isn’t gonna keep them down,
And TKO is no longer the name
Of the game.

Hand me a marker
For me to draw my scars
Because I’ve decided to be me;
My soul won’t be
This withered shadow
Anymore




 

february 2011 
Janet Reid

  



Awarded by Poetic Constellations 

  



Awarded by Poetic Constellations ~ March 18, 2011 ~ Bri