He trains on his own, a hard and painful, lonely, road,

Up with the sun, a day that’s never done.

A boxing man, at times beaten and battered,

Win or lose, he’ll give it all that he can.

Blood is hs sacrifice, swollen knuckles and hands,

Stands and faces the enemy, twelve rounds if he can.

Knocked to the canvas, back on his feet is this man,

Eyes that are half closed, strength of a warrior.

This chosen life, a courageous man with gloves on his hands,

A champion, a winner no matter the outcome.

Keith Garrett