The count was ten <br />And still he did not move <br />He lay beaten, badly, cold <br />Giving his life in the square ring <br />to win a purse of gold. <br /> <br />The count was ten <br />It could have been ten thousand <br />All that he ever had, was spent. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />May 2004 <br />Martin Swords<br /><br />Martin Swords<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gold-ring/
