The boxer

His feet are aching, still jumping, not afraid of pain

Searching for it, key for hard work

His thighs are swelling on the rythm of his heartbeats

Waist is locked, strong, ready

His broaded chest is curved contracted to cushion strokes

His arms are vigourous, punching, swinging

Delivering striking uppercuts, drops in the air

Staring his invisible opponent, no mercy

Wearing his sweat like men tears

Fighting the roughest enemy in the mirror

Keep struggling never give up

Feeling glorious in rising every time he falls