sweat pours from my pores
left jab
cross then hook
blood runs from my nose and from your forehead
you may beat me in competition
but you wont beat my worth ethic
i will fight till its over
if you want to win
you'll have to knock me out to get it
i don't give up
Jesus didn't tap and neither shall i
this is our home
yours and mine
this is the only place where we can escape the outside world
this place is the safe
safe from those who judge by size
this is where skills are proved
champions are born
people are encouraged
in the end you and i are friends
we are good sports
we make the other better
we sharpen each other
whoever loses, will be admired by the winner
whoever wins will be congratulated by the loser
this place is so different
this is the octagon