Murder

MURDER

Poetry

By Richard E. Noble

Little Danny took his blows,
As he stood against a bigger, toe to toe.

A right, a left, a blow to the gut,
And Danny was down again dustin’ his butt.

I had never seen a fight like this,
As freckled faced Danny put up his fists.

Knocked down, and bowled over,
He got knuckled from shoulder to shoulder.

But Danny took it blow for blow,
And stood his ground, toe to toe.

I had never seen a boy get beaten so badly,
It was Danny Mulroon, and Robert Bradley.

Robert had the height, the reach and the jab,
He had the walk, the talk, and the gift for the gab.

“You’d best stay where y’er at, Danny Mulroon,
‘cause I’m gonna knock ya bloody from now ‘till noon.
I’ve already beaten a lot bigger than you,
I just give ‘em a taste of me old one-two.”

Robert had hands as quick as his feet,
And Danny was a boy who was sorely beat.

But, up he’d leap from off the ground,
Only to get tumbled and pummeled and knocked again down.

He was a bloody mess, that Danny Mulroon.
If he kept gettin’ up he’d be dead before noon.

Robert’s fists kept crackin’ his face,
To stand and watch was even a disgrace.

Each time he’d tumble, even the ground would moan.
It was too much of a beatin’ for a boy half grown.

“Give it up Danny.
Give it up, son.
We know ya got courage.
Now let it be done.”

But Danny would stumble again to his feet,
And Bobby would slam him like a piece of dead meat.

Some of the crowd began to walk away.
It was a loss, but Danny just wouldn’t give way.

It went on and on ‘till the crowd had all left,
As Bobby showed Danny who was the best.

Danny’s eyes were closed swollen, his nose a red glow,
His lips both broken, his jaw hangin’ low.

“I’m tellin’ ya to stay down,” said Bobby Bradley,
With a hint of a tear, and a voice that cracked sadly.

But when Danny heard that slight sigh of regret,
He knew that his fight was not over yet.

He leapt from the ground, and rushed to his foe,
And Bobby just crumbled from his head to his toe.

He fell to the ground like a sack of sweat.
I can hear his cryin’ and wailin’ still yet.

Danny never hit Bobby a blow,
But there was Bobby on the ground below.

“Get up and fight like a man!” cried Danny,
Standing up straight like a tiny Vic Tanny.

A sight like this I had never seen.
The boy on the ground was neat and clean.

The boy who was beat, and bleeding defeat,
Was tellin’ the victor to get up on his feet.

“If you’ve had enough, then say ya give ...!”

“I give ...I give ...” said Bobby Bradley,
“You win, I give ... I tell ya I give.
My mother would kill me.
It would really hurt her,
If her only son should go to jail for murder.”