You are born into this world, screaming, covered in blood; a fighter.
Day after day, you fight, step by step, word by fractured word.
You fall and scrape your knees, wounds mended by time and a motherly hand.
You lose your teeth, come inside after dark, covered in dirt,
But there is always growing, cleaning, and a lesson learned.
There are bad grades and planning for someday, someday far away.
There are late nights and growing old, aching for a hand to hold.
There is skin between teeth and empty, desperate grasping in the dark.
You will give up pieces of yourself out of fear and let even more be taken.
You will bear bruises and scars and lie awake with someones fingers tangled in your veins.
Your heart will be shattered, met with a flame and reduced to ashes.
You will be broken in every sense of the word and you will have to pick yourself up out of the dirt.
Some days will be sunshine, a good nap, and your favorite song.
Some days you will want to die.
The beat to every life is just this: Fight.
Every day is a struggle, a newcomer in a prize-fighting ring.
But the fight goes on anyway.
Leaving the womb, taking your first steps, speaking your first word.
Your first day of school, losing those you love, losing all you have.
You came into this world a fighter.
*******, don't leave this world giving in.
Fight and go down when the round is over.
You came into this world a fighter.
You should leave it just the same.