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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2237433
Every day is a fight, sobriety, those who don't want me to win, just to use as they do.
I feel the crowd's anticipation
This time I must be gone
Even I am questioning the reasons
Stay down...it won't take long

My fighter's heart still beats
But my mind resists its call
As I hear the final count
Accept defeat or stand tall

I've taken a lot of punishment
So many scars and so much pain
It would be easier to stay down
What could I possibly hope to gain?

My pride, my courage and myself
All lost long ago
Returning to meet the challenge
I was lost...but now I know

As the seconds turn to years
Back to a time I danced and played
With only moments left to fight
I still have something left to say

As I rise up to my feet
Not a sound can be heard
Nobody expects me to win
I must admit the idea is absurd

Driven by desperation and anger
To show those who dared to doubt
Never write off a fighter
Till he's counted out in his final bout

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