My right eye bled

and I could not fight back,

if I had, I may have ended up

in a worse condition, one that

surely would have had me

as close to death

as the day my appendix

no longer grumbled

and instead shot poison

into my system almost to the point

of no return.

 

My body stretched out like dough

being rolled out to make bread

for the hungry teens

on Cooper School field

and my battered face, sharp elbow dented

half a dozen times by a crazed maniac

as his mates took a limb each to

watch the display take place.

 

Battered

Physically

Battered

Physically…

 

A small breathe as he looks down and allows

a sneer to cross his face for the

Bicester School kid

who dared play football

on his turf, gang warfare

with nobody on my side

and the elbow crashing deep into

my right eye socket

once more, once more…

 

I remember my friend Richard

yelling out that they were killing me

and the moments hesitation

allowed me to lift a knee

and lose weight off

my near carcass like state and scramble free

with blood oozing, spurting, discharging

in many glorious ways

and catching the beautiful light

that streamed down from the heavens.

 

A first fight, one of two, both hardly fair ones,

ones that I had not asked for,

one that now makes

my near blind right eye

ache when the sun comes out

and the wind blows gently in my face.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015