poem: punching bag

My skin is canvas
My blood is padding
I hang by chains
If you see me, punch away

Take your turn
Or take a number
The line is long
But you will get your time

I'm a punching bag
Just someone to know
Some one to beat on
Some one to tear at

I look strong
I take it and wince
The pounding is constant
You think I'm tough but you don't see

Even the toughest canvas rips
The padding bleeds out
The chains get old and rusty
Even a punching bag can be beaten

And like that bag, I can be beaten
I'm a person not a piece of canvas
My blood is real not padding
The chains I hang by are life

Many don't seem to realize it
They keep taking their shots
And don't understand how much it hurts
They don't think an old ugly bag can cry

But she can
She does
She bleeds
Every blow causes surrender

The white flag is flying....