The situation is far from funny
but one has to laugh to keep from crying
You know you've met your match
when the gloves just keeping on flying
Who is going to be the one
to throw in the white flag
Stubbornness will never win
neither will being a nag.
As I take a breath and try to focus
at my opponent in front of me
bruised, bleeding & wincing as such
in pain but refuses to flee.
As angry as we are we can never deny
something is telling us to quit
We are bigger than this & friends way too long
we must really end this SH*@
So I reach in my pocket to clean the blood
from off my opponent's face
Then I looked at my hand shocked to see this flowy white thing
it was the flag made out of lace
As I looked in the mirror at my own bruised face
I cried at what had to be
My opponent turned & wiped my tears
and said, "Thank you for loving me"