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Finnigan's Finish

Robert Service

They thought I'd be a champion;
     They boasted loud of me.
A dozen victories I'd won,
     The Press was proud of me.
I saw myself with glory crowned,
     And would, beyond a doubt,
Till last night in the second round
     A Dago knocked me out.

It must have been an accident;
     I cannot understand.
For I was so damn confident
     I'd lick him with one hand.
I bounded in the ring to cheers;
     I panted for the fray:
Ten minutes more with hoots and jeers
     They bore me limp away.

I will not have the nerve to face
     The sporting mob today;
The doll I fell for--my disgrace
     Will feel and fade away.
Last night upon the brink of fame
     No favour did I lack:
Tomorrow from the sink of shame
     I'll beg my old job back.

Added: 29 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 18 Jul 2018 8:06 PM | Viewed: 4217 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5190/ | Viewed on 18 July 2018.
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