581 – Swing

The punches
Keep raining
On his battered face,
Yet he still stands up.

Bring it on, bitches.

The fists
Feel like iron
On his aching gut,
Yet he still stands up.

That the best you’ve got?

The blood
Keeps dripping
From his busted brow,
Yet he still stands up.

I can do this all day.

The blows
Will keep coming
While his head stays up,
Yet he’ll always stand up.

I’m ready to rumble.

They want him
To be broken,
To punch down,
To swing sideways.

He will just keep standing,
And will always punch up.

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