He’d fought too many fights.
From playground tests
To rowdy Saturday nights.
Standing up for his,
Or some other’s, rights
Wanting only
To be left in peace.
When the real fight came
He was unprepared
Didn’t see it coming
Love's blade bared
He was unskilled
Paralysed and scared
Wide eyed
To a strange betrayal
It was the instinct
To protect, survive
Brought him to my senses
Kept him alive
He stood his ground
‘Til friends arrived.
In them
He saw himself again.
He’s stepped off the field,
Let the others bear the gree.
Choosing not to fight
Set him free.
Nomad Omnia
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-choice-36/
