The Waving Matador


United States
42° 20' 51.4248" N, 71° 6' 1.0368" W

Snap, Pop, Crack!
There goes an elbow with one firm grasp.
La la la watching those tears mixed in,
Is water, blood, and all the hope
plus determination flowing from that corpse
Run rabbit, run as fast as a cheetah
Jaws locked until that fateful crunch
What's left is all but swallowed
Beware to fighters in Brazil
Of an underground fighting champion
None other than the Matador, who goes barnacles when he gets ill


Need to talk?

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