Punches Poem by Dustin Newman

Punches



Pick'en myself up. Dust'in myself off.
Regardless of the blocks, blood is fillin the cloth.
Keep the swings comin, only half connect.
The rest I laugh off, I deserve respect.

Back yourself up. Put your fists down.
Listen to my words, you'll remember the sound.
I care not for your cause or your reason to hate.
Gimme a few moments and Ill set you straight.

Dont you come at me thinkin your about to win.
I know you aint got nothin. Your the lowest of men.
Dont you get in my way or diminish my sight.
Your backed ina corner and your losin this fight.

Give up now and maybe keep what you got.
Your pride is all mine and it cant be bought.
Feel the pain that I harbor within my fist.
As it comes down upon you, consider it gift.

The dance is now over and the loser is you.
You like your new colors? Purple, black and blue.
Try and think about this moment for your mind is crass.
Keep your words to yourself or they'll be your last.

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