Fencing and Fences

If I could do my life over again, I’d become a professional fencer
I spend far too much time on the fence
Inability to time travel is the only thing foiling my plan
Understand that with one foot in and one foot out
I tend to trip over my own feet
I clearly haven’t perfected my stance
One can’t expect to lunge forward on the back foot
I can’t draw to save my life
I don’t know how to properly paint a fence
At one point in time, fencers would fight to the death
They say the pen is mightier than the sword
To be honest, I’m not so certain
My poems are pointless amidst the art of war
A solid stanza can’t shield me from a skilled swordsman
In the proximity of a sabertooth tiger, I’d rather have a saber than a simile
Would you bring a quill to a knife fight?
Would you bring a pen to a fencing tournament?
Or course not. Unless of course, you wanted to write about one of the two.
I can’t build a fence in self defense, or draw one to save my life
Although, I feel fairly confident my poems can
But nothing I write can take another life away
