pressure mounts
and like boxers going at it
head to head
toe to toe
words fly
hot as bullets
yet no audience
cheers or boos

some you lose
others
I let you win
well aware
in size and strength
you could easily kill me
both knowing
all we truly have
in this mixed up world
is one another

long gone are the days
of me sending you to your room
though often
you retreat there anyway
allowing us time
to extract the shrapnel
tend to our wounds

and by morning
the score’s forgotten
you call me dad again
I call you son
then out the door
sincerely wishing one another
a good day

© 1999

570 hits as of November 2023

10/27/2018

Posted on 10/27/2018
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti