Sweat

Blood Sweat And Tears..

 

  • We have nothing to offer you say the cows but our blood sweat and tears. The blood humans cook and call juice or gravy. The sweat is uric acid, the pre-urine in their muscle cells which causes
    arthritis. Their tears and terror become adrenaline which saturates their flesh during
    transit and as they are murdered.

    saiom shriver


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Anxiety pill

Clocks slow to a crawl time creeps it's deceit 

Some days lack ambition no spring in my seat

Pounding heart sure to cave won't endure it's fatigued

Need mighty endowment strength stability proceed

 

This pen hits the paper racing heart slowly calms

I believe in my words the sweat dries from my palms

Trembling hands quieten be sturdy as steel

I take a deep breath... Now to enjoy how I feel

Shane Aaron

Dec 7 2013

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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