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Poems

The Fighter

He came from the world beneath,
Where the rule is to survive.
He had hard fists, sharp teeth.
He rumbled to stay alive.

With nothing to lose
Life’s simple as hell
There’s little to choose
In a place forever unwell.

He was thrashed and scarred
Frightened and scared
Kicked out and barred
He left nothing bared.

One day he fought himself free
And saw horizons unfurled
The way it was meant to be
In this gnarly old world.

He looked around and saw
A healthy place to stay
And marveled in awe
That he’d found his way.