From a remote corner in India,
She bobbed in the boxing ring,
Her world of mundane struggles,
Brightened with illustrious wins.
All of five feet two,
Full of grit and punch,
With a box here, a jab there,
A knock, a swing, a lunge.
India's dreams she has dreamt too,
Sung a rising nation's song,
Though not a gold or silver,
Yet brought home a bronze.
A gracious boxer, a brave heart,
She endeavors to uphold,
An apology to a hopeful nation.."Sorry,
Couldn't bring back a gold".
From the midst of common people,
She's kindled new aspirations,
Mary Kom, the boxing Mom,
The girl next door's inspiration.
Though not with an ace medal,
Her name's on the Olympic scroll,
Mary Kom, the Indian bomb,
With a heart of the brightest GOLD.