I'm punching up in my weight class.
No gassing up, sucker-punched
But never reeling from what's stolen in the dark.
Never feeling what was done to my heart.
A raise of my fist leaves my chest exposed.
Playground antics I suppose
Says I chose to have my chest caved in
By the weight of your enthusiasm to play the game.
Them's the rules, I suppose.
However, we are not fools.
We chose to risk a pose rather than posing.
It speaks defiance.
An alliance of spirit, power, and fury.
SPF against the hate.