boxing
Learn more about other poetry terms
It's so funny how it seems like everytime I tell you that I am doing something, you are suddenly doing it too,
But the only difference is that everytime you start something, you never seem to see it through.
Isn't it funny how something that you start doing just for fun ends up being the thing that saves your life?
That it is the only thing that can help pull you through when the rest of the world is cutting you like a knife.
Listen!
Slip right, then jab.
Follow up, keep it straight!
Remember!
Cover yourself!
Don't let him land another!
He's big, too big!
His hands are like stones!
He's quick, too quick!
The sweat beading up,
my muscles firing out of control
huffing and puffing as i go.
Focus, dodge, punch
every ounce of strength
I go hard,
up until the highest length.
LIONESS YOU GOT THIS
Red blotched scarred face,
Clenched teeth,
Mouth with a sour bitter taste,
Scarlet eyes bleeding pain,
Agitated menacing thoughts in the brain,
Balled up fists, white bruised knuckes,
Tense,alert body
We were locked in combat,
there could only be one winner.
The ropes of the ring,
close in.
My opponent steadily watches me.
His face, taut and glistening
with sweat.
I'm a prizefighter and my name is Little Mac.When I fight my opponents, they end up on their backs.I defeat all of my opponents even though they're twice as tall as me.
They're weavin'
And they're bobbin'
Punching and counter punching.
Sometimes they land blows.
Sometimes they get hit.
No they are not boxers.
In a boxing ring.
What's UNDER the ARMOUR?
What's inside the shell?
What stirs up the STORM?
What causes the swell?
When times get tough,
Do I run and then hide?
Or do I stand up and fight,
When we rise in anyway, everything around us rise as if, the sun shine around us, saying we are the ligth, which one day, will ligth it our path to succes, just following those deligthful colors which have infinity gloriness.
The nervous sensation running down my skin,
the only thing I feel is the desire to win.
The wraps in my gloves are sweaty,
my shoulders and arms feel heavy.
I threw my last punches with all my power,
The nervous sensation running down my skin,
the only thing I feel is the desire to win.
The wraps in my gloves are sweaty,
my shoulders and arms feel heavy.
I threw my last punches with all my power,
When morning light cracks, my skull rattles to ear-piercing bebop saxophone
Prize-fighter in the corner, crave the bell, you pitbull,
crushed ankles will likely give out, useless things
