He was a promising middleweight
with a record of sixteen and oh
when the doc called him in
and gave him the news:
"You got maybe two years left
in this game, kid," he said.
The kid looked stunned.
"Too many shots to the head?"
"No," said the doc, "it's your hands,
they're shrinking."
It was true. Every day
they were a little smaller.
Every fight, the gloves
had to be laced a little tighter.
He retired undefeated
at twenty and oh, still champ.
These days you can find him
outside the Army-Navy store,
Hands no bigger than a squirrel's
and playing the tiniest of violins.
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