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Owed to the Bee
A Kid from the 70s with knuckles that bled,
from beating the bag instead of your head.
Shadows were friends and foes to defeat.
Running, trash talking, feet pounding the street.
Despite all the lonely, the hardwork and grief,
It's honest to say I feel Like the Thief.
The times that I claimed "The Greatest ever to be"
trying to float like a butterfly and sting like Ali.
