The ring

They laced my gloves while I was sleeping, Painted flames across my name, Hung my photo in the hallways Like I’d already played the game.

Crowds I’ve never met are chanting, "Fight!" they cry, with greedy grin — But I never said I’d enter, Never asked to let them in.

The bell tolls in the morning light, Pressure thick like summer heat, As if just standing in the center Means I’ve sworn I won’t retreat.

"Throw a punch!" the voices thunder, "Be the hero! Be the flame!" But what if I’m not a boxer? What if I refuse the frame?

I don’t want to be their champion, Fighting battles not my own. I’d rather break the ropes they tied And build a quiet throne.

Let them cheer for who they think I am, Let them spin their golden lie — I won’t dance for their approval. I won’t bleed to satisfy.