I am forever cursed to recall
the blood-stained ring
from the kid who never rose from the fall.
Haunted by the silence that pierced the screaming squall,
the borough jewel’s last seconds standing
I am forever cursed to recall
glassy eyes, near shut, unafraid of the assault
of my punches. Heavier than granite, he collapsed after the ding.
The kid who never rose from the fall
had a heart stronger than his flesh. My fists pound into the wall
until they bleed, praying to feel an ounce of his pain. My sin
I am forever cursed to recall
every time I am mentioned as the victor. The idol
I will never be laid in mahogany. A procession following
the kid who never rose from the fall.
The line of cars drove by his towering mural.
A tribute from the city that lowered their warrior down as a king.
Forever willing to recall
the hero who never rose from the fall.