This man, has he never tried his hardest?
Wonder, has he ever given his all?
Have we never before sighted his best?
Was it only bravado, luck, and gall?
Each day we doubt the strength of his next strike,
Ignoring him and what he may have done.
Waiting for his ego to take a hike
And punishments of time and fate to come.
Worrying not how we shame and name him,
Has-been and forgotten and drab old bore,
Prideful with bliss he'll climb into the ring
Hoping and believing he'll win once more.
So confident his best still lies ahead.
Within his heart, a champion till dead.
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