“how did McDavid handle it when the judge said 19?” a Poem by Eric King

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This is a feeling you can’t escape

its an empty loneliness, I know it

me by myself despite a strong team

back in the boxing ring

keep hoping that i’ll wake from this

how did McDavid handle it when the judge said 19?

This is fear I can feel it

eating through my stomach

like a starving lion lurking

I float in the warm blood below

that puddles beneath my cold carcass

nothing I have to say, sadly

is worth the struggle for a last breath

when all there is to eat is poisonous plants

do you skip a meal or go for broke?

Vomiting up the last of my hopes

torn between defiance and defeat

battle cries and fate’s cruel jokes

all of my heroes have records

my internal infrastructure sparks riots

when I wake the smokes scattered

and I have to face reality

survival is a must

acceptance then progress

it hurts though

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