fightin was natural

highin was natural 

hurtin  was real 

and the leather like lead

on the end of my arm 

was a ticket to ride to 

the top  of  the hill 

fighting was real 

The sting of the ointment 

and  scream of  the crowd 

for blood in the ring 

and  the clangin bell cuttin 

clean through the 

cloud in  my ears 

boxin was real 

the  rope at my back

and the pad on the floor 

the smack of fuor hammers 

new bones in my jaw

the guardian my mouth 

my tongue  strain  to swell 

fight was livin 

boxin wasre real 

fightin was real 

livin was hell. 

form called book Maya  Angelou 

x