DT (07/03/89 / Thomasville, Ga)

'I Walk With A Limp'

I walk with a limp this you may see
You may see the weakness inside of me
I myself have not arrived
But I too..am not deprived
There is a call for all
That call is within
This is my story let me begin

When a man enters into war or steps on the floor He enters in the boxing ring with much to explore
With all the training for strength & speed
He thought he would be stronger than his need
His need for trust
His need for healing
It took a hit or two to become revealing
With eyes swollen, And mouth bleeding
He kept taking the hits
He kept taking the beating
His opponent on his high horse laughing & sneering..backed him in a corner, his plan..
His opponent likes to build things up so he can tear em down
He loves to sit and watch them fall to the ground
With the assembly quiet..and not a sound
The fighter falls hard to the ground
His tears now coursing down his cheeks
He remembers the fight
He remembers its peaks
He recalls his breath leaving him with every blow
But he had to be good
It had to show
He felt as if the match was over & that he had lost
But at what price?
At what cost?
As he lied there in a pool of his own blood
He knew he couldn't hold his emotions
For they were a flood

From the corner of his eye a boxer appeared
A man of war
A man revered
This man knew to well the match he was in
He knew this opponent
He knew his sin
He knew to well this opponent he fought
He knew to well the heart he sought
This man
This fighter
He had been there before
He too had lain upon the floor
But he
He had gotten up He had fought his fight
He must have fought all through the night
He had won his battle
But not yet the war
He left the ring with an open sore
Now he stood beside the ring cheering him on
He kept yelling 'Get up! ' 'Stay with it! ' 'I believe in you! ' 'Be Strong! '

As I laid there in my own demise
I saw the frailty in his eyes
The words he spoke of..
They were written in red
I just couldn't get them out of my head
I shook off the sweat
I wiped my tears
I now was about to face & fight my deepest fears
My hands still sweaty
I arose to my feet
I was ready for my encounter
I wasn't about to retreat
My fist clinched tight I fired my first punch
I think that hit made him regret stealing my lunch..

That day I fought with strength not of my own
But it was someone inside me whose love for me had overgrown

I walk with a limp this you may see
It's because I know the weakness inside of me
I myself have not arrived
But I too..am not deprived.

~Devin Tudor
Copyright 2009

The Battle doesn't always go to the strong. You cannot win the fight by just strolling along! The Race isn't always won by the swift. I choose to accept His free gift.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 3

Other poems of TUDOR (4)

Comments (3)

Devin, this is incredible.. I seriously got tears in my eyes. You described it so perfectly. The battle, its struggles and the warriors victory in the end.... Wow! What a powerful message this is! Great job!
Oh Devin, this is amazing. I got teary eyed reading it. Well done!
Yes, very truly battles won by the inner person are forever won, battles won by the outside person could be lost thereafter.......since, the inner battle is a victory over one's own infirmities, and the external is the victory over other person's weak moments.....Time changes, but inner victory once won, is a booster throughout life...............It makes us a matured person, our vision and attitude towards oneself and the world enlarges.........very nice theme.........