A Fist for a Fist
Chivalry, that bygone custom of yesteryear,
As men grew weaker
And women grew stronger,
A melting of the armor
Revealing a melted spirit,
A gradual feminizing of the mind,
Virility, no longer a young boy’s dream,
No longer a distinct separation
From the female mystique,
No longer a comfort zone,
But a river looking for a place to run to,
An ocean that’s not well defined,
A harbor in the heart surrounded by the mist,
A feeling forgotten and never restored,
A growing disrespect for the female gender,
And a disregard for their needs.
Come back, that chivalrous way of life,
That dividing line between man and woman,
Between the strong and the weak,
The lover of poetry and white lace,
And the strong beating his iron chest
And retaining his virile thoughts and deeds
That ran out of him and put into woman’s thoughts,
That fighting machine that was once weak,
The one brandishing her iron fists,
Equal to that of man, once mighty and distinct,
But now an equal, a blending of the sexes,
The modernization of chivalry,
The battle between the strong
And the strong growing weaker,
Who is now the once masculine one
Who’s not allowed to fight back,
Who is supposed to absorb the punches
In a manly, chivalrous manner.
“The rules of a fair fight:
A fist for a fist.”
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