Four hundred thirteen pounds he weighed
His favorite attire was a set of bibs
No shoes on his feet did he wear
A sleeveless T-shirt; completed the fib
A professional wrestler wannabe
This was his very first pro match
His opponent was a little bitty man
A victory from him he would snatch
Into the ring, they both did climb
He studied his opponent with contempt
The bell rang, and the bout began
And he made a very futile attempt
Before he knew it he was down
The little man straddled his chest
Trying hard, he couldn’t get up
He was giving it his very best
At the count of three, he lost
And at the outcome he was stunned
He found out later in the locker room
He had wrestled the promoter’s son
The teasing, it just wouldn’t stop
And he held his head with shame
His opponent was only ten years old
And a victory over him did claim
His professional career, is one and done
He’s gone on to other things
His bib overalls are a reminder
How the agony of defeat, it stings
June 14, 2022