581 – Swing

The punches
Kept raining
On his battered face,
Yet he still stood up.

Bring it on, bitches.

The fists
Felt like iron
On his aching gut,
Yet he still stood up.

That the best you’ve got?

The blood
Kept on dripping
From his busted brow,
Yet he still stood 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 always punch up.

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