Poem -

The Fighter

The Life Of A Fighter

Jesus Christ what happened to you, 
You don't wanna know the things I had to do. 

You're tougher than you look,
All the same just written in a different book.

Did the fighter look worse than you in the end?
I am the fighter, the other guy's dead.

But its not what you think, 
I'm just the spark that started the fire, 
It was over in a blink,
Just because of one desire. 

It started with question and ended in a murder, 
without hesitation, the knife getting sharper. 

As the screams fade out into the wind, 
The struggle is real, it's just held with-in.

The cold lonely streets fill up his head, 
maybe this would all be different if he just kept his mouth shut instead.

Once was the present is now the past, 
He doesn't know how long he'll last.

Promised her he'd stay til the end,
Wouldn't stand up and leave, but waits til she gives up and lets go of his hand.

Snow falling down on the streets, 
Shaking, crying trying not to remember back when he use to get beat.

Stomach in pain from not eating as much, 
He reaches out his hand hoping for one last touch.

The end is coming he can feel it in his wounds,
His heart beating one last time, he hits the ground, gone too soon.

 

 

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