Irelands lament

I watched you climb into the ring
for the last time,
You were all washed up and past
your prime

Long gone was your speed and flair
your matinee looks and pompadour
hair

Gone was your smiling eyes and
cheeky grin your body now all twisted
and thin
 
Alas you quickly run out of fuel
your body not ready for the duel

Slumped and exhausted on your
stool your lungs exhale a mournful
brool

Counted out on a hard cold floor
your broken body could take no
more

No one heard your rattle grasp or
pulled you from the reapers grasp

You slip away without resistance
all alone cold and listless