Pity the wimpy Democrats
They suffer in defeat.
Year after year they don’t learn
Like Republicans you must cheat.
Stuff all the ballot boxes
And monkey with the machines.
You’ll never get a **** thing done
If you keep the elections clean.

And band together solidly
With your chosen party.
Lie and cheat and dissemble
And act like a pompous smarty.
Never worry about what is right.
Just brazen it through out loud.
It seems jerks do the best
When catering to the crowd.

Buy votes from everywhere
Especially from big industry;
Big Oil, Big Banks and Pharma
Kiss their butts shamelessly.
Make sure all the factions
That are stealing the country blind
Understand you have their backs
And treat all of the poor unkind.

Go on tour and television
And make out you’re the good guy:
Dare the opposition to debate
Then Ignore facts and lie.
Remember the public is stupid
And doesn’t know what goes on.
Run a crew of cheaters on the side,
It’s what elections depend on.

But most importantly, you must be
The most obnoxious candidate.
Start early and spend the bucks.
It’s deadly for you to start too late.
Run the most famous people:
They must be Christian and straight.
No matter how you cheat and lie
Promise America will be Great.

Cover your butts before you start.
Plant a lot of baseless rumors.
Make baseless stories about their past.
Swear voting wrong causes tumors.
Do what it takes, Democrats
The GOP has no compunctions
If they could just get by with it
They’d beat you with truncheons.

The reasonable
Amongst the un
Will always be
The world against one.
But the tame
Reap their rewards
While the wild
Are maimed
And unarmed.

Winning makes you slack
     while it is in losing
          that you become strong and stronger

You'll pick on all my flaws
(Tonight, I felt selfish ambition)
"Fragile", it never meant "weak"
(Anger clouded my vision)
I fight you with shaky hands
and inelastic lungs,
(My mind alone could
cause our collision),
You've chosen my skin,
my skin, my skin as your prey,
but your blades only
reach surface deep,
(Resisting you is my religion)
and contrary to common belief,
I'm not praying for eternal sleep.


- Crimsyy

We'll send our monsters
to their graves,
ten feet under our capes,
and they will never know again
the meaning of 'escape'

When they think they've
pulled the last straw,
when they think they've
nailed us to a wall,
and they start to believe
we won't get up at all,
Think again.

We're heroines,
sober on our scars,
drunk on the belief that
we could pull off anything,

Heroines,
more than just a pulse and spine,
we carry our nerve,
we carry on just fine,
drunk on the belief that
we could pull off anything...

*Even living.

Undefeated. Undisputed. 12 wins, 0 losses. A perfect 12-0 record.  
You’re the crowd’s favorite as Vegas odds are in your favor.
Through the years of being in this game, you can almost get used to the fame.
“This fight’s going to be an easy one” – you assured your Coach.
You enter the octagon and see her warming up. Then you hear Bruce Buffer laying out the ground rules.
You’re excited – but nervous.
You feel the pressure of having to live up to everyone’s expectations. From your coach to the little ******* the other side of the world rooting for you.
You thought it was going to be another landslide victory.

Barely 2 minutes in and you feel scared.
Suddenly, you feel a numbing pain on your chin. It was a left hook.
As you fall face first, you feel nothing. Your unconscious body lays flat on the octagon floor.
Lights out.

Moments later you wake up to the sound of the fans cheering in the octagon.
A left hook was all it took for your dream of retiring undefeated to come crashing down.
For the first time, it wasn’t your arm that was raised by Herb Dean.
For the first time, you heard the words, “….and the new Featherweight champion”
You don't let it sink in at first but you can only hold back for too long before you realize that you lost.
You stood up, wiped the sweat off of your forehead, removed your gloves and marched out.
Suddenly you feel this weird feeling of embarrassment.
"So this is how it feels to lose?" you said to yourself.

You found a chair, sat down and composed yourself.
You’re still in one piece, which is a good thing but you know that fact cannot compensate for the emotional disorientation you felt.
Broken bones really do heal faster than injured egos.
Maybe your loss was a way of knocking some sense into you.
Winning is not everything, the same way that losing is not.
Sometimes you need to experience defeat in order to appreciate how satisfying every victory is.
As a fan, I know it's going to be hard to bounce back from this loss.
But you're going to be okay, champ. You always do.

Trying not to think so much,
To not break the rules and such,
Trying to fit my square in little round holes,
Maybe too late to save our souls.
Trying & trying, always trying,
Keeps me busy but always sighing.
Enigmatic parlance for the used and abused,
Mother’s milk for the lost and confused.
Pity and empathy are opposite things.
Misery and helplessness always brings
The wrong ones, the unbroken and the unhealed and the ******
The unhappy, the sick and those body-slammed.
One more battle and one more fight,
Eventually I’ll tell myself I’m alright.