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Knock Out

Poetry By: FleeTard
Poetry



No i will not write a short summary of the content i am submittiting


Submitted:Aug 23, 2010    Reads: 45    Comments: 3    Likes: 2   


The expression on my face

Is a reflection of yours,

You say your last prayer

And stand square.

You try to steady yourself

You compile your fingers

You give me the glare

And prepare.

You insist you are the best

But I refuse to believe

I feel the hot air

Ill be fair.

The bystanders hush the words

And the clock ticks faster

Who will take the first tear

We are unaware.

I ball my hand into a fist

I promise this wont take long

Gliding through air

It seems unfair.

A hard hit to your cheekbone

You sway for a while

Lit up like a flare

You lay there.

Blood pursues, rushing hard

You weren't as great as you said

You won't repair,

The rest of you beware.





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