04 January, 2014

For the Count

I'm having trouble fighting
My punches barely swing
My lip is swollen, bloody,
My eye's a dark blue ring.
It kicks me to the ground
The asphalt scrapes my skin
My lungs are torn, empty,
And so I count to ten:
Ein, zwei, drei, vier,
To my feet I get-
Funf, sechs, sieben, acht,
Time to settle debts.
Nein, zehn, dodge again
Duck, tuck, roll
Time to strike out
Time to be bold.
Throw out a fist,
An elbow, a kick
Stop being afraid,
It's your fight to pick.
Don't let them keep you
Still, back, or down
Don't let them see you
Cry, fall, or drown.