Alchemisland

I cursed and fought with every breath then

Now I’m gassing ten seconds in

Gassed running into the ring

K1 to K9, delay on my strikes

Can’t get on my evasive bike

I’m on the mic after, making out like

I had an injury all camp, I’ll be back

Better than ever but I know it’s a lie

I barely hit back, my chin is cracked

My wrists shattered when I try to bang

I can’t even hang with my shadow

I take another, sign on the dotted line

A self-defeating need to feed or beat my ego

I tell myself of flukes, how it won’t be repeated

First shot with heat seats me, ethered

Up unsteady seven on the ten count

No one will accuse me of being a coward

I’ll only go out if he puts me out

Snout bent the wrong way

Lie to myself

It was just the wrong day

Though he had me on skates eight times

I’m right back to training, trading with my addled mind

No pop on my strikes, gee, Pop, pop my shoulder need ice

Tapped twice to strikes, used eat them like pork slices

Slapped guys thrice my size, beat them like third reich 1945

Bring a lanky lad back down to size with my turtleshell handback.