Tuesday, 14 November 2017

Dear Virginia,
I want to know what you're made of.
Tell me why is it that when we get
into the boxing ring,
The highly held head that I have
usually eats a humble pie after the
first one silly minute.

Beautiful Virginia,
Tell me the secrets to your strength.
Tell me what it is that you have
That makes me bloat like the
belly of a crocodile when you step
into the boxing ring.

Sweet Virginia,
Narrate to me.
Why is it that every time when we
get into a fight,
You're always the one who ends up
wiping streams of tears from the
eye that I have in the middle of my
faceless head?

Amazing Virginia,
You are as brittle as the petals of
a flourishing rose.
But where do you get your
strength from?
Anytime when we come to blows,
you are the one who emerges
Despite the fact that I'm the one who
looks like a warrior!

Meticulous Virginia,
Your art of war never seizes to
amaze me.
How is it that when we get out
of the boxing ring,
I'm the one who always bows down
to hide the mask of shame
on my one eyed faceless head?

1 comment:

  1. Heavy use of imagery,actually the whole piece of of art is an extended metaphor elucidating the woes of the 21'st century man in his bedroom marathon ventures.i just love it


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