Wrestling

Sports

Sports


(Verse 1)

I’m the goal that you think you’re gonna score

A little bit of teasing got ya pleading for more (Yeah Yeah)

If you end up a loser no need to be sore (No No Nooo)

 

Givin’ up on trying to get me to stay

Like it was gonna happen anyway

You’ve run out of dumb lines to say

Well save em’ for a rainy day

 

I’m the judge and you’re the case

What you’re true intentions are it’s time to investigate

You wanna play hardball then step up to the plate

Cause we both know you’re just trying to get to third base

 

(Chorus)

Tryna go camping in my spot

With that tent in your shorts

Tryna get your ball in my court

Well you must love games

Cause you tryna play sports

Somebody call the referee

Cause I gotta and I wanna (Wanna) hear that whistle blow

You really think you can handle me

Well we'll just have to wait and see

 

(Verse 2)

You wanna touchdown so baby go long

Now come on and show me what you got (Got)

It's a foul if you hit it wrong

Can ya get it can ya get it up (Up)

Like a jockey yeah giddy up (Aye!)

 

Like tennis

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Warning: Young poets read at your own risk. A raunchy about how men and women (but mostly guys I think use sports euphemisms when referr to or talking about sex or sexual encounters.

 

A Poem About Wrestling

Every day I pour out my heart and soul,
Working hard to achieve my goal.
My mind says go, but my body screams STOP!
And I find myself up against the rock.

I tell myself "just gotta push through."
Then reach deep down inside and somehow, I do.
But my mind soon betrays me, saying "please, no more!"
"It could all be over, there's the door."

Thinking the whole time "You're no good, just quit."
I summon the will to get out of this pit.
When it's finally over, when the whistle blows,
I look back with pride and my face, it glows.

I soon shower up and say "Let's get out of here!"
And then I leave, less some blood, sweat, and tear.

I'm often asked my motivation, they say "Why?"
"Why do a sport where you feel to die?"
"Why do a sport, filled with so much pain?"
"A sport where you give so much, but see little gain."

I shake my head, for they can't understand,
Why I think this is all so grand,
Well let me tell you, just why I train,
When my body is so sore, when my energy is drained.

I do it for the lessons that I may learn,
For the discipline I get, and the respect I earn.
For the people I meet both far, and near.
Though many poke fun and say "dude, that's queer."

It's an internal drive, one I can't explain,
That causes me to work through all the pain.
Though my body aches and my muscles burn,
When I must not eat, and my stomach twists and turns.

These words I always say to myself,
"Get back up" or "Almost done, keep working."
Working towards things, both physical and not.
Because even if I lose, at least I fought.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

First off I've never been the poetic type, I just got the urge to write about what was on my mind, and it rhymed. But feel free to critique (or maybe if I'm lucky, compliment) my work.

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