I live to fight and l live to give me a place to show it.

Every time I enter the gym the boxing bag for some reason smiles at me.

Every time I enter the ring it could make or break me, and I know it.

I hear the bell as if the coach was yelling out to me telling, it's time to unleash, the beast.

Along with the sound of my shoes scraping beneath my sweaty feet, as I dance around this battle ground to stay out of reach.

My sweat is mixed with a trickle of blood, and the scent of grit and fearlessness that the taste of victory, and every time I get out the ring l see red shiny ropes shining to me.

As I step outside of the gym I say to myself, “I did it.”