I've been a boxer in the ring,
One that has given and taken blows,
Hard ones,
Ones that break, bruise and ruin things,
Ones that make you win and ones that make you lose,
I see my reflection in, My Blood on the ground,
I made this choice to be in the ring,
So i suck it up and Throw somemore punches,
My appoinent now his blood is mixing with mine,
As we wrestle on the floor.
A whitle please?
No, no more...
I dont think i can much more.
Reflecting in the blood smeared all around,
The eyes of the one i am fighting,
Brown, pain in them, anger...
For what?
I am winning?
Maybe, but i got some good punches,
Punches in the face, in the leg, in the gut, chest and arm.
I just keep on attacking them,
Another glance in this puddle of shame
And in the same pool of mixed blood, i look for me,
And to my disbelief
I see the same thing, as if our eyes were one,
Pain,
Are you winning?
Maybe, But you got some good hits too,
And my blood is running down my body.
Why, Why do we wrestle around and fight in this ring?
Whistle, blow, stop this insanity!
Stop it stop it before either one is gone,
Blow it! Blow it...
But no sound comes...
I give up, I dont want more hurt,
NO MORE hurt,
This deep red blotched floor could've stayed gray,
But, this is what has happened,
Why did we start this?
I dont like it,
So i am causing no more anger,
No more broken bones, or bruises or pain,
I will just step away...
Step away from all this that i thought i enjoyed,
NO more pain.
Get out of this ring.
Cause i hate to see that reflection of the eyes,
No more blood shot eyes....
No more.
Goodbye Bloody boxer in the ring,
I cant cause you anymore pain.
You win.
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