Bareknuckle

A fist meets my face the clashing of bones makes a terrible sound, blood splatters all over the arena,  The crowd howls in delight, My body aches ripped and torn apart I felt. 

 

Feeling heavy I push myself forward no limits, no regretting. Anything is possible as the bell rings woke up in my bed with a smile on my face ready for what is to come.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741