I’m getting tired now.
I’ve gone… I don’t even know
How many rounds with my opponent.
I’ve become feeble and exhausted.
I know they’re going to win, but I’m intent
On finishing the fight. My opponent always wins.
My opponent’s fought so many people that they’ve lost track.
Everyone before me lost, I’ll lose, and everyone after me will
Lose, it’s inevitable.
I’m ready to strike back when all of
A sudden, my opponent pulls out a knife.
They stab me in the side and I immediately
Take a knee to the ground.
This is nothing new, they’ve done it
Numerous times. Knives are legal in this fight,
Except you don’t get one.
The bell rings signaling for us to go to our corners.
The cut is really deep this time.
The pain is agonizing, no matter how many times It’s felt.
As I examine the bloody mess I notice all the other scars.
I remember them all, some big, some small, too many to count.
I want to give up, I don’t want this anymore.
There were times where I had the upper hand.
Every time this happens those good moments seem so distant.
But the fight will continue wether or not I stay in this corner.
There are others who have done that, just quit the fight, even
Though they can’t leave the ring. They just… give up.
The referee is pushing for me to get back into the fight.
I always tell him the same thing when the knife is jabbed, the only thing
That changes is the amount of time.
“Just one minute. Just… One… Minute… Please.”